2019-11-15 - You Can't Pay A Prostitute In Soup

One of the many benefits to owning your own bar is that you can decide to close early for a private party. Even if that private party only consists of a few friends drinking and playing poker. The glass doors out to the patio are still wide open despite the chilly night and one of the firepits is roaring down below. Easton is still dressed for work in a black dress shirt over a pair of jeans, but he's definitely not in work mode. He is out by the firepit with a glass of whiskey in hand, the bottle nearby and a cigar in his mouth already lit. He apparently didn't feel like waiting to see who showed up.

Byron's not all suit and tie. And especially not when he's just meeting up with some of the other guys to discuss guy things. While Easton might be dressed nicely enough for work, Byron comes into the place with a thick warm wine colored sweater and a pair of jeans and combat boots. It was getting colder but rather than wear his leather jacket, for now, he has it draped over one arm as he comes waltzing in. His hair isn't slicked back in his usual business style and rather is gelled up, still looking as perfect as can be.

"Marshall." He calls out to the other, approaching the fire pit, taking his place around it to soak up some of that heat. One of the first things that come to mind right now is something that he mentions, "If you suddenly found a packet or two of Lipton-style soup sitting in your cabinet, I'd advise not to drink it."

Looking up over his shoulder, Easton raises a glass, it's obvious from the look in his eye that it's hardly his first drink of the evening. He calls out "Thoorne!" In a voice that echoes out over the water. A look of confusion crosses Easton's face, furrowing up his brow. "Wait. The bird soup?!" He slowly catches on, "I assumed that was some whacky health thing Bennie picked up at some hippie place. Why? And how do you know about that?"

Joey actually is suit and tie. What the hell planet are we on? Is this a veil dream? He puts up to, but not on the door to pop the lock, open and close it behind him. minimal effort really, and that's if he even bothers to make himself aware he did anything at all. Byron knows the suit. Byron's responsible for the suit though the tie is loose and the top button undone and the hat pulled down. "Suuuuup, boys." He looks to them and falls silent to pick up where the conversation's at, but pulls up a seat.

"Let's just say the flu wasn't completely finished with us." Byron says in a far too casual tone. "After, what I'll assume was a Dream, but I can't really differentiate between Dream and Veil right now, I think this flu thing was an experiment of sorts being run." A pause, "Then again, they were testing on how to combat it, I guess." He shrugs. "Either way, it's either a Dream thing or from the Veil and while I'm not well-versed in either, I don't think it's a good idea to partake in anything from over there." He settles down into his own seat, before nodding over to Joey's entrance, "Kelly." He continues, "Isabella drank it though, so I'm told. She said that it helped her feel better, but I have my suspicions, unfortunately. Either way, we'll be watching out for her in case something goes awry." Another pause, before he further explains, "I believe the soup was our reward either way."

With Joey in a suit, Byron is the most casually dressed person here for once!

Tobin got the text from Byron and it's a remarkably short walk over from his house on Bayside to the Two if by Sea, and so he wanders on over. Tobin looks as he most often does, in a pair of jeans, a white button down, and a grey sweater, boots crunching along as he strolls over in the direction of the fire pit, seeing Byron and Easton there already. He lifts a hand in a wave but doesn't say anything until he's close enough that he doesn't have to raise his voice. "After all she's been through, lately, I'm surprised that she would have taken it." He gives a nod to Joey in greeting as well and falls into one of the chairs around the fire pit comfortably.

The two new arrivals prompt Easton to realize that others might not be quite as free to just grab their own drinks as he is, so he offers "Fellas, liqour's lined up on the bar. Taps are open too." That's about all the effort he makes though, so they will have to hike it up to the bar on the upper deck if they want a drink. He's apparently not sharing the bottle, at least not by choice. "Oh fuck." Easton takes in all the information about the flu that he thankfully has all but forgotten about at this point. "I should text Tyrone." About not eating the soup. But then he hears that Isabella did and his eyebrow quirks up. "Hot scotch drank it? Really." He nods at Tobin, someone he's seen around but never actually met (?) and agrees, "Seriously. I guess on the flipside, you've been through enough weird shit, what's a random box of soup?"

"Whoever gifts soup," he starts not really latching on to the words Dream or Veil, "is a dick and probably not someone you want in your gift exchange, or you need to start a fuckin food pantry. Even prostitutes do not accept soup in payment man. Who is doing this?" Easton gets flashed a look of interest, "Hell yeah invite him." Looking over to Tobin he lift a hand to him in a two finger salute. "Tobin."

Draping his jacket over the back of his chosen chair, Byron rises to make that very trek. "A random box of soup that may or may not leash you to the Veil as their servant? I mean, myths and folklore like to warn you against that. Then again, you could end up like, uh... Hades' wife, and rule the underworld or some shit. I mean, lucky Isabella if that's the case. Poor Clayton." He then turns around, "While I'm at it, anyone want anything? I could use a good bottle of whiskey myself." Look, he's gonna raid the bar now.

He nods over to Tobin when he makes his appearance, "Tobin, you know Easton Marshall right?" The kid who bullied Byron at one point, Tobin would know that much! "This is my best bud, Tobin Gilford." Licking at his lips, looking thoughtful, he tries to remember the name, "I think it was something like The Vivisectionist. So, even more of a reason to not drink the thing..."

Tobin nods his head to Joey in greeting, "Joey." He's seen the Kelly around from time to time, but isn't particularly familiar with him. "Nice suit." He glances over to Byron and asks, "He raid your closet?" But when drinks are offered, he gets up to his feet once more. "Yeah, don't eat the pomegranate seeds, or the Veil soup, or food offered to you by the fey folk," he chuckles. Then he nods to Byron and says, "Yeah, though I don't think we ever really formally met." He gives a nod of his head to Easton, apparently figuring if Byron's hanging out with him, holding onto childhood animosity isn't a thing. "Nice to actually meet you."

"I feel like ruling the underworld is kind of a shitty reward? Kind of like a box of mystic soup for nearly dying and fucking up your life." Okay, it wasn't all the flu's fault, Easton can't pin it all on that, but it contributed to the shit show that is his relationship status. "And so long as Clayton gets to keep hitting that, I don't pity the man." He nods at Tobin and says, "Good to meet ya." The comment about gifting soup gets a 'I know right?!' look from Easton, "Seriously. phe Soup." He looks at little confused as Tobin has apparently a list of things not to eat, "If they want to fuck with me, just put it in a whiskey bottle. You could call it Veil Poison Death Whiskey and I'd still probably drink it." He thinks about it for a second and says, "I should absolutely start a distillery and sell Veil Poison Death Whiskey."

Whatever anyone asked for or not, Byron scoops up a couple of bottles of some fine whiskey along with several empty glasses that he sets down neatly on a tray like he's some sort of waiter. He doesn't linger for long and returns in time to inform Tobin, "That's what Seattle was for. Get Kelly suited up." Adding, "Looks good on you." Setting one of the bottles down beside his chair, he starts to fill up all three of the glasses brought.

"Not even in bartering societies, back in the day, did prostitutes accept soup? I mean, it's not like I did my homework on that, like someone." If what Joey says even holds any shred of truth, Byron doesn't know nor does he seem to care. Once one glass is filled, he'll stand to lean forward and hand it off. Something's on his mind, apparently, "Out of curiosity.. did anyone get any weird junk mail by chance?"

"Whole bottle, B? Must have been ahell of a trip." Looking at the bar he shakes his head. "I'm good with messin up my head with tequila shots. Good for now. " Eyebrows arch and head tilts at TObin's greeting. He points to Byron, "Blame him." He knocls back the first shot and slides over the second but holds it for now. He considers and shakes his head, "Total no on the Prostitute souping exchange and the junk mail, man." Looking to Easton he does have to nod in some agreement. "There is that." For all that's messed up for Clayton it does seem to pan out even.

"Yeah, sorry I didn't make it out there," Tobin says, regarding the Seattle trip. "I wanted to go." But something with the boat had kept him in town instead. When he sees that Byron has already acquired drinks, he sits back down again. "Weird junk mail?" he asks, then explains to Easton -- "Things you're not supposed to eat from weird places. Persephone ate the Pomegranate seeds and so had to spend time in the underworld with Hades. The lore is you don't eat anything while in the Faerie realms or you end up trapped there. And well.. I'm guessing Veil Soup qualifies along the same categories." He settles back in his chair, then.

"That... makes perfect sense." Easton has to admit that don't eat food in magical places is not a rule he would have thought of, but it does have a certain logic to it. He looks back at Byron and asks, "What kind? I've been getting fucked up shit in the mail for weeks. Something on the other side thought it was a hilarious prank to send me copies of the death notification letters I had to write." He thinks a little more about it and then asks, "Or do you mean a handwritten invitation?" Easton's lip curls as he thinks about that particular piece of mail that he's tried hard to ignore. He continues to puff away on a cigar, the smoke mostly blending in with the wood smoke to not ruin the smell of the night air too much.

"This bottle is for when that one is empty." Byron says with a slight roll of his eyes just as he leans over to hand Joey his glass of whiskey after giving Tobin one as well. "You know me, everything in moderation." With his own glass filled, he takes a much needed sip. When Alexander's name comes around, Byron doesn't say too much about the man. He will tell Joey regarding the prostitutes and soup thing, "I'll take your word for it, man."

Settling back comfortably in his seat, feeling the warmth of the alcohol and the flames of the firepit against the chill of the autumn air. "That's.." He starts, eyes to Easton, "That's really fucked up. Sorry to hear that." However, when the former military man brings up the handwritten letter, Byron nods, "So you did get one?" There's this ghost of a smile on his lips, but it's not hard to tell that he feels uneasy about this letter. "Lilith and a few others did too." When he looks to Joey and Tobin, that smile mostly fades, "I think. I think it's a letter from Them." And they can almost hear the emphasis in his voice when he says Them, but Joey might not catch it...

Tobin takes the glass that Byron offers over to him and lifts it to the others before taking a sip. He has nothing to offer on the topic of prostitutes and soup, only being really familiar with one of the topics, and definitely not the other. His brow furrows though when Byron mentions that the letter is from Them. "They sent you .. an invitation? To what?" He definitely catches it, but then, he's always listening for it.

Joey looking back to Easton he nods and looks to Tobin with one eye in a squint, "I guess you bring up a good point. That happen? I mean taking over the Underworld so bad? I mean it's a lil better than middle management. Being told hey be a CEO and have this house an d staff ain't so bad. Kinda a necessary service really. Last I spoke with that demon it was anyways. I mean t o be fair it's a rough job. People die, they ain't come to terms with it. Get shitty with you. You gotta be like yo, son, this is the way it is. Get comfortable with some shit pretty damn fast." He considers it for a while and slams shot number two. "I see your point."

Easton shrugs off Byron's concerned apology and makes a dismissive wave of his hand, "Yea, something wanted to fuck with me." He doesn't mention that it was highly effective, that would ruin the tough guy waving off of the concern in the first place. He shakes his head at the question about what the invitation leads to. "No idea. Probably more screwed up shit." He shakes his head, sounding a little drunk as he opines that there's nothing good to come from it. He looks at Byron and asks, "Directly from them? Interesting."

"I wish I still had the letter." Byron says, posture mostly relaxed as he stares down into the fire, "But it burst into flames once I'd read the last word." That's when his eyes shift to view Tobin, "If I recall, it was an invitation to those who used their... gifts to excess." He takes another drink from his glass. "I don't recall seeing a date or time, to be honest. And I can't check it now, but I'm sure that if we have an appointment with Them, whoever They are, we'll just be summoned." Clearing his throat, he adds in, looking back to Easton now, "Anyway, Alexander said to always be prepared since it could happen at any moment. Yeah, he got the memo too along with Isabella."

Tobin takes a sip of his whiskey as he glances over at Joey and takes in his explanation of the Underworld as middle management, studying him a little curiously, but offering no comment other than a sort of nod. Then he glances back over toward Easton and Byron. "Very Mission Impossible," Tobin says when Byron mentions the letter burning. "Mom always did say that anything that we do gets their attention." Not that he still agreed with everything that his mom ever said, but she did have a few things right.

Easton nods and tosses the spent butt of his cigar into the fire. "Yea, just poof." He agrees that the letter is no more, which is a bummer. He shakes his head and says, "I should have known. Same m/o as the other letters." He equivocates for a moment and then admits, "Almost. They mostly turned into puddlesofbooze." He mumbles out that last part quieter than the rest, as if realizing that it makes him sound like a sad drunk, not a besieged man. He smirks at Tobin and says, "Slightly more mystical, but who knows maybe they're fans?" his smirk turns into a grin at the thought of the shadow tormentors enjoying some classic Mission Impossible re-runs or the Tom Cruise flicks.

Joey shrugs slightly to Tobin. It's a job with responsibilities. He can't say much about the Veil but he's got a lot to say about being a business owner. It's Byron's curiosity that gets his attention, attention shifting to Easton and back. "So some guy is sending you threats and the letter just combusts? Seriously don't eat that soup. Unless you want some parasite from like Sri Lanka no one's heard of or something I'd totally hold off. but that's me man. Then again I cut my ribs I had for lunch apart with a box cutter I had available so take that as you will."

"The letters you wrote turned into puddles of booze?" Is that what he said? Byron tilts his head, then lifts his brow and just takes another sip of whiskey. "Right now, we just have a list of names of those who received the letters. I don't know if any more will be sent out or not. And I don't know if we'll all be dragged into this together, but," He shoots a look over at Easton, "If we are. Glad to know that you're on our side." Rather than playing for the opposite team as what happened during paintball...

"Yeah, I'll pass on the parasites, thanks. There was a mention of a reward, but the soup? That was supposed to be a reward too." So these Veil rewards don't sound trusthworthy at all. "Anyway, so what has everyone been up to? Gohl is dead and buried, the flu is finally gone, I think." He goes on to say, "Lilith and I took a trip up to Seattle after the funeral." Joey knows about this because he was there! "It was a much needed break from everything. Being away from Gray Harbor makes a huge difference."

"I'm a little dubious of anything that comes from over there as a reward," Tobin says, taking another swig of his whiskey. "They reward what is bad in us. Remember how they made everyone feel good after the deaths at the play? They reward what is wrong. They punish what is good. And even then, it's not consistent. It's like chaotic evil children just playing with us, because we can't stop them from doing it." He smiles faintly at the talk of the Seattle trip and how it was a much needed break. Then he glances over toward Easton, and finally to Joey, "That sounds.. unsanitary."

Coughing a little Easton nods at the question about his letters. "Yea." He tries not to sound defensive, like yes, they were real letters and not just booze induced hallucinations because he's losing his damn mind. He shakes his head and says, "Is it wrong that I hope altogether? Because that's a solid list of people I'd trust over there." Yes, they are apparently at the mushy tell each other they trust and appreciate one another phase of the night. Not quite to the usual Easton level of him stripping off clothes and professing his love, but the night is still young.

"Lilith?" Easton quirks an eyebrow, "That's. Uh" .. not Dr. Glass's first name? Is how he was going to finish that sentence but managed to think better of it. "Nice." It's not a smooth recovery by any means but it's not quite as bad as it could have been.

"Kelly, that's not right man." He doesn't actually seem all that grossed out by it though. "And yea, chaotic fucking children with too much damn power and time on their hands." He agrees with Tobin, but notes with interest the information about what they reward. He remembers Alexander saying something similar after the play dabocle. "Would they reward killing them?"

Joey looks to Byron and arches an eyebrow, "Would you let your tenants pay you in soup? C'mon B, if it don't make dollars it don't make cents." Looking back to Eaton his fingers come up, "This is my concerned face man. ANd I tell my kids through the gym that all the fuckin time. Just cause you can pick a fight and end it don't mean you should every opportunity. Makes you the bully and that shit invites a storm." He shrugs and takes another shot. Pointing to Tobin, glass in hand he says, "He speaks common sense. It's all fun and games until there's a guy up in your grill and sometimes though you gotta shut that shit down. Knowing when to stop is hard though."

"I'm not going to say that those actors didn't deserve it." To die. Byron says with his glass lifted before him, just idly staring at what remains of the content within, "If it wasn't them, then it certainly was going to be us. But you're right. And anything kind of reward given is usually not worth it and this is coming from someone who has had to make deals with the members of Their," Well the Veil's really, "City Hall." His glass lowers.

"It's never wrong to want to do things of this nature together. It's... usually better than handling them alone." There's some hesitation in this as he notes the hypocrisy of this bit of advice to some of his own beliefs. That's when he hears the confusion from Easton regarding Lilith. "Lilith Winslow, she owns the Pawn Shop after her father died..." He realizes what Easton is getting at. "Vivian and I broke up. It was my fault. Things happened and what I thought I'd lost, I'd recently found." The edge of his lips quirk, "I could have handled it better." There, it's out in the open now.

When they are still on the soup as currency thing, Byron's brow lifts, his lips cracking open into a wider smile. "Isabella said it tasted like Lipton soup of all things. Not even the fancy kind. So no, I would not accept soup as rent payment."

Tobin finishes off his whiskey and falls quiet for a bit while the the others talk about soup and the rewards from the Veil. He then glances over to Easton and says, "Doubtful. They reward killing the people that they want killed. I'm pretty sure they have a healthy sense of self-preservation." He takes in a breath then and rises to his feet. "It was them or us," he agrees with Byron. "What we had to do was wrong. The situation we were forced into was wrong. That we were then rewarded for having chosen as we did, it was just a slap in the face on top of it." His phone starts buzzing then, and he glances down at it. "That's Raf.. Let me take this." He smiles to those gathered, and then moves off to the side to take the call.

"Survival isn't wrong." Easton doesn't know all the details but he also doesn't have a lot of grief about killing things that try to kill him. Other things or people, sure. He looks at Byron as he mentions making deals with 'their city hall' but doesn't mention it. He nods in assent at Byron saying it's better to do these things together, "Agreed." And he still has a lot of respect for Byron since their time in Easton's Dream. He puts up his hands, "No, not trying to pry." He laughs when Byron tries to explain and says, "And I'm sure you weren't as bad as me in my last breakup. Remind me to tell you 'bout Katherine sometime." He doesn't offer to get into it now, just stands and wanders off for the men's room. And maybe the couch in his office. "Be right back..." But he was not in fact, right back.