2019-11-18 - A Portland Excursion: Turf Dispute

A normal response to being asked if you want to go on a trip to Portland would likely be "Cool! Yeah!" or "Sounds like fun!" Instead, when Itzhak posed the question - Isolde looked very much uneasy. In fact, one could say she may have paled some. Go to Portland? Where her parents were that didn't remember her? Where she had a set of twin siblings she knew nothing about? That did not sound like a good thing to Isolde. Though, other people would be with them right? And it's not like she had to try and drop by her childhood home for that extra knife through the heart.

So Isolde agreed to go, one one condition. They were going to take Heartbreaker and at some point during the drive SHE was going to get behind the wheel. Isolde really was a good driver! She just...didn't have much opportunity for driving in Gray Harbor since she didn't have a car and would rather walk. For real! It's the truth. By the time they were leaving to head up to Portland, Isolde was in relatively good spirits.

Those good spirits turned slowly into trepidation and nerves again when they got closer though. It was hard not to think about things. Those hazy memories of her childhood resurfacing. It was all...bad. Yet, here they were! In Portland and they had survived the first day/night! And she had resisted any urges to go late night wandering/family hunting. Being here in Chinatown though? It felt...uncanny. Things were hazy, but Isolde was sure she could find her way to the Underground and around the Tunnels blindfolded.

She has a tight hold on Itzhak's hand as they wait for/with the others. "What'd you think we'll find down there?" As she tries to roll through her mental file and see if she could even recall encountering anything in her childhood years.

Eleanor and August arrive, hand in hand, for this little adventure. Ellie is dressed in jeans, hiking boots, a long-sleeved white shirt with navy blue horizontal stripes, and a tan, waterproof jacket that is loaded with pockets and falls to mid-thigh. She's pulled her hair back into a braid today. She has a small crossbody purse slung across her torso. She looks happy, content, so dinner with the Roen family must not have been a complete disaster.

Erin, apparently, has entrusted de la Vega with her baby - a Maserati that's worth more than his worldly possessions combined, no doubt. They probably ought to have smoked everyone else in the ride over here, if not for the fact that half of the fun of a well-oiled machine like this is taking the scenic route.

The sleek car turns into the lot of their designated meeting place, engine veritably purring along before the ignition's killed. Ruiz hands the keys back over to Erin, with a quick kiss given in exchange before he unstraps himself and pops the door. "The Underground?" he queries as he climbs out, ball cap tugged down low over his eyes, shoulders given a roll to settle his jacket over them. A dark tee shirt and jeans and combat boots round out his attire today. "Are you sure you need me around for this?"

August apparently found time to put his car through a car wash, or at least apply a hose to it, since it didn't come down to Portland coated in mud. He's in a black leather jacket with a red and gray, waffle-knit Henley, denim jeans, and hiking boots. His usual look. Like Eleanor, he seems content, positive even, so things at his sister's place must have gone smooth. "Let's just say," his eyes shift to Isolde, "I'd rather be safe than sorry." He studies her a bit, silently asking her if she's going to be okay, or if she'd rather wait with the cars.

Itzhak let Isolde drive and that was not easy for him. He has his own needs for control and power, and that Stingray is a focus for a lot of it. But he did, and he distracted himself by playing DJ and singing along to every song. Isolde now has a thorough education in Itzhak's musical taste and singing skill! And an education in how to handle the Stingray, how responsive it is, how good it is to drive six hundred horses down a coastal road in autumn on dark asphalt with brilliant blue skies and trees in red-and-gold finery and the ocean muttering and tossing below.

Portland means nothing to him, but it means a lot to Isolde and August. He's on what passes for him as his best behavior when Heartbreaker (with him back at the helm) pulls up and he gets out, ready to rock. He opens the passenger door for Isolde like a frikkin' gentleman. "C'mon. Let's get this shit done."

Not quite in her usual look, Erin is wearing a pair of dark colored chinos with a soft sweater over it. Certainly not heels. Not this time. It's the boots she'd worn for Halloween, the ones she'd briefly traded to Sutton that night. She gets out when Ruiz does and walks over with the rest. It had been a fun journey, at least for Erin, who had sang along to so many songs on the radio it's a miracle her voice isn't gone. There's an amused glance towards Ruiz at his question, but she looks back at August and nods at the better safe than sorry comment.

Team Rocket, er Hya and Vyv, follow behind the caravan. She doesn't drive. Her car does! As she's wrapping business calls and managing a host of other things and kindly informing her Tesla where to go put itself life is grand, for under 40k, let her tell you. It's November so there's a sort of expectation to travel that style and comfort mandate and even so she's in jeans, and her off shoulder sweater and a sort of wrap cloak and those huge owlish sunglasses that screams I beat up Italy in a mean-girl slappy fight, won, and took its style. The indents in her skinny jeans are not from a garter but her leg's hardware presently obscured. So she doesn't always look like a runaway disco ball in public. "See? We survived. Morning, all."

Vyv likes driving, but okay, maybe the Tesla is more practical than the Jag for this particular trip. For one thing, it's not entirely ideal convertible weather, what with being not the middle of summer in the PNW. And in mild deference to travel and weather and potential Adventure and being in proper harmony with Hyacinth, he is also wearing jeans. Dark ones in perfect condition which it's entirely possible he might have dry-cleaned or iron or something, but they fit right and look comfortable enough. With them there's a v-necked sweater vest with a Fair Isle pattern in varied tones of brown, tan, and cream, over an ivory oxford shirt, a nubby tweed suit jacket, and a solid chocolate-brown tie, with a cream, brown, and navy paisley pocket square peeking from his breast pocket. Because one still has standards.

This one in particular also has sunglasses, which he looks over the top of briefly when they arrive. "Yes, but at what cost?" he asks Hyacinth, which might or might not be a joke, before looking to the others and inclining his head in greeting. "Good morning."

Eleanor digs out a maglite from one of her copious pockets. Said pockets are loaded with gear, like an old-fashioned compass, chalk, string, a small compact with mirror, phone, and a few other bits and bobs for adventuring in tunnels. She's like a modern-day D&D adventurer. Also, maybe a small stone that barely glows. She wants to test it to see if it can find them a thin spot.

She gives the arrivals welcoming smiles and greetings of hello. Then they're off. A few times along the route to the secret entrance, she gives a look around, appearing like any tourist, but she's taking note of something. She murmurs to August, "I think we're being watched. I keep seeing someone..." then she trails off as her hand pulls her little rock out of her pocket. It's glowing noticeably now. "It does get stronger near a thin spot!" she exclaims.

Isolde straightens up a bit when she catches August's eye and gives a little nod. She was fine. Whatever was going to happen would happen right? It would be okay. Or it wouldn't and they'd all die! But that was a very slim probability. Her gaze flickered to the rest of those gathered. "Safety in numbers." Is her idle agreement with August's mention of rather being safe than sorry. She gives Itzhak's hand another squeeze and then releases him. She was curious, to say the least.But she was also very wary. She gives a little wave to Vyv and Hyacinth when they arrive and then follows out.

When they approach the entrance, Isolde makes a thoughtful noise. Like she might say something, but then opts not to. When Eleanor says they're being watched she takes a quick look around before refocusing on the entrance.

Ruiz wasn't really expecting an answer to his crankypants question, so he falls into pace with Erin as the group heads out, his palm touched briefly to the small of her back once they get moving. In terms of what he brought with him? His gun, undoubtedly. Anyone looking at him fairly closely would likely be able to make out the shape of it under his jacket.

He's quiet for the most part as they trudge along; every so often, a glance cast skyward as if wondering whether those clouds are going to drop any rain. And since it's been a while since he visited Portland, he's drinking in the sights as well. The gate, he observes somewhat warily from afar, dark eyes ticking to Erin like he's curious whether she can glean anything about the lock on it.

Surrounded by friends, lovers, and people he doesn't know that well but who he has good reason to think are badasses, Itzhak looks at that door and he knows. He squeezes Isolde's hand and steps up to the door but doesn't touch it. He's just getting in its personal space, sensing it as maybe it senses him. "Pretty small in there," he mutters, fingers kind of tapping the air nearby the door. "I can open it. No sweat. I don't dare try to open most other places here, might not be able to get back."

"Oh, we're definitely being watched," Vyv agrees, sounding as though this isn't an entirely unusual situation. "Fairly sure I've caught at least three people looking really quite interested in what this little field trip might be up to. Or perhaps appreciating Hyacinth's cloak, but they don't quite strike me as dedicated aficionados of the sartorial arts." If he's brought anything much with him aside from his eyes and mouth and umbrella, it apparently fits sleekly enough into the pockets of his ensemble. The rusty gate gets a dubious look, and he's willing enough to let Someone Else be the one to unfasten it, though he does ask, "Unlocking things might be dangerous, here?" Good to know. Just in case.

Erin walks along with Ruiz but it's more like the blind leading the blind. Her own gear is her cell phone, cause it can be a compass and a flashlight, but she never considers it not working at some point. The battery is charged fully. Someone someone says gets her attention and she stiffens marginally. "Watched by what?" No, not by who, by what. This is familiar territory for her. Not the veil or Portland. But weirdness.

"That figures," August murmurs to Eleanor, trying not to look around them to give away the game. His mouth flattens at Vyv's addition. "A few of us are pretty bright, I imagine pulling into town didn't go unnoticed."

He asides to Erin, "Interested parties. The Other Side here--it's smaller than in Gray Harbor. There's less of it."

He looks askance at Itzhak as he examines the gate. "Just open the lock, then," he says. "Don't open a way Over There." He peers into the tunnel, which he hasn't set foot inside in over twenty years. "I'd rather not find out the hard way something weird happened down here after we buried Billy. They're going to meet us at a certain spot on this side, I know where it is. We can try checking out the Other Side after we've talk to them. See if they have anything to tell us."

He turns to face everyone. "So, look. They're a lot like us. Not organized. Just, people who work together. Or, you know," a wry smile, "don't. Moira, that's who we're going to talk to, she's kind of a mover and shaker. I spent a lot of my childhood dodging her, because she hates kids fucking around and making a mess." He clears his throat, gives Isolde a brief, significant look for what might be shared history getting underfoot in the tunnels. "What I mean is, they'll talk to us, but don't expect any kind of warm reception." He raises his eyebrows to make sure that's clear with everyone. He's not really asking for 'best behavior' but he's definitely warning some people whose names start with It and end in zhak that they need to not pick a fight.

Then he nods for Itzhak to pop the lock.

Ellie tucks her little glowing pet rock back into a pocket, looking inordinately pleased by her hypothesis being proven correct. "These tunnels were used in the old days to move deliveries from the docks to local restaurants and hotels. That's what is confirmed at least," Eleanor murmurs, because of COURSE she researched them before they came here.

"But there are historical rumors that they were also used to kidnap men from various locations to shanghai them into sailing on vessels, thus the name, the Shanghai Tunnels." She glances around curiously. "Additionally, the mafia may or may not have trafficked in people and illegal substances and goods, again, unproven," she adds. She slides her hand back into August's, because being Shanghai'd in this secret section might have a way different meaning.

Ruiz just waits, patiently, for Itzhak to do his thing with the lock. And, because this is taking a long fucking time, he pats himself down for his pack of cigarettes, and taps one out and lights up while he's at it. At least he's polite enough not to blow smoke in anyone's face.

Isolde blinked at August and then snickered. The name Moira did indeed seem to ring a bell. At least vaguely. "I'm pretty sure I drove her crazy." She murmured. Though she also remembered thinking Moira was crazy in those days. Hell, maybe she was just a little bit. Weren't they all? She takes a step back though, she doesn't want to be in the way if anything goes...wrong. Sorry Itzhak <3. A glance towards Ruiz, maybe tempted to ask for a cigarette too but, she refrained for now.

Hyacinth seems to have picked up on that too as out comes the mirror compact and Hya does a quick check for her lip gloss and teeth. "Okay. Let them look." Is she pulling thier chain. Well the compact is staying out and her keys? "Soooo we're making a habit of fraternizing with dubious sorts to get what we want?" She sighs and murmurs, "It's like high school all over isn't it? Alright, entrez-vous." Still the mirror and keys stay near Erin and Vyv.

Itzhak grimaces. This feels like walking into rival gang territory and he doesn't like it! But he raps the door with inked knuckles. "Shalom aleichem," he mutters, "we mean you no harm." And open the door does.

"Well, if I were the mafia and had a built in network of underground tunnels lying about, I'd absolutely use them for trafficking in whatever," Vyv remarks, and makes a small 'as he said' gesture toward August's answer to Erin re: observers. "You have a glowing rock," he notes to Eleanor as she pops it away where it can no longer be seen. It's a question, despite not going up at the end. Hyacinth's remark gets a tiny half-smile, and he settles to watch Itzhak pop a lock. Stylishly on both their sides!

While Itzhak does his thing, Erin watches, curious about things. She listens to the others, but she doesn't really input much. The more she hears the scarier things get, so she's definitely not adding any questions that require answers into the mix.

It's almost like the man's a reader, or something. Ruiz has a sixth sense at times for people eyeing his smokes, and taps one out for her too, offering his lighter along with it. His attention roves back to Itzhak as he works on getting that door open though, with a slight narrowing of his eyes at the Hebrew. He doesn't interrupt, but is ready to take point once it's time to head in.

"Ugh, don't mention highschool. I'm still trying to forget that trauma," Eleanor mutters to Hyacinth. They were in the same class, though the redhead was much more of a frazzled ginger weirdo back in those days. She nods to Vyv. "I do. It's from Over There. It only glows weakly unless it's near the Veil. It was a light source in the area I went on the Other Side." She grins. "Long story, but the only time I've been over there and not been horrified the entire time."

She follows along with the group, dodging puddles and small debris piles while sweeping her flashlight across the ground in front of her. That becomes unnecessary in the lit area though, and she clicks it off and tucks it back into a pocket. Her eyes look over the assembled people curiously.

Isolde gives Ruiz a long look. Well, it feels long. It's really only a few seconds. She takes the cigarette and lighter and does it quick, like a pro even. Handing his lighter back a few seconds later. Yes. Nicotine. It's good for the nerves. As they traverse the tunnel, Isolde remains quiet. It's a thoughtful sort of silence emanating from her. Then, before too long, they're in the room with the waiting people. Her eyes travel along all of them but primarily Moira, then the man. She knows this man. What's his name...? It's on the tip of her tongue. She just continues staring at him while she tries to remember. Manners Isolde. Gosh.

Erin takes the time to study those that seem to be studying them back in return. The older of the women mostly. With a head tilt, she doesn't say anything vocally but her eyes question them, looking for any hint of danger or a warning of any type. The others conversations draw her gaze briefly, as they say they know someone there. "How do you know him?" Of course she whispers it, but sound travels easily enough. She's curious more than afraid.

Itzhak guides everybody through the tunnels like a hound following a scent. The arrows are clear as day to him, shining with the same shine as he has, as they all have. (Also Ruiz gave Isolde a cigarette, do not get flustered, Itzil, not the time!) When he leads them to the dilapidated basement, he upnods with a carefully calculated level of aggression; not here to cause trouble, but fuck with anybody here and you fuck with him. "How's by ya." This is August's show, really, he's here as backup.

"Souvenir Veil rock?" Vyv says, brows lifting a little. "Mn. Sounds like an interesting story." The cigarettes get a subtly covetous look, though he doesn't ask, but from his expression he may regret that as they make their way through the tunnels, and he picks his way carefully around puddles and other things that look less than salutary for the suede of his boots or the neatness of the denim just above them. "The catacombs are in better shape than this," he mutters, eyeing-- something dangling from the ceiling too-nearby, "and they're four hundred years old." A small pause, a rat skeleton tucked into a low divot where the brick meets the ground catching his eyes. "On the other hand, slightly fewer corpses..."

The basement is a bit of a relief, even if it's not precisely his style. Or anything close to it. Nor is the dude with Alexander's fashion sense and-- is that a rat on his shoulder? The chef's expression stays impassive in a way that suggests he has definitely noticed this and does not approve but is determined to be polite about it for the time being, given givens, and only relaxes very slightly on looking over the younger pair of the group there. "Good morning," he greets all four, inclining his head toward them civilly.

Isolde's long look is returned evenly by the police captain, like he has no problem engaging in staring contests with strange redheads. There's a wink for the woman once she hands him his lighter back, though without a smile in accompaniment it might be hard to assess what he's thinking.

The cherry of his cigarette flares bright as they step through, and head into the gloom. And he's trying, really, not to give off an aura of thug with a gun invited along to keep things in line. But it's hard, with that face and those tatts, and that.. gun. At least he keeps his mouth shut, even if he's trying to catch and hold Moira's gaze with discomfiting intensity.

Eleanor works on memorizing every facet of the basement they're in. The researcher in her would love to haul out a camera and a recorder and document it so she could write up a whole file on it later, but she has a slight feeling that might be considered rude by the locals. She is quiet as she stands close to August and gives a little shy wave of greeting.

If August is put off by Moira's lack of regard for him, it's not apparent. He might even be relieved she thinks Ruiz, Vyv, Erin, and Hya are the people worth speaking to. He grips Eleanor's hand, gives her a reassuring smile. He leans down to murmur something in her ear.

Isolde doesn't seem to react one way or the other as far as the wink-with-no-smile goes. They've both seen a glimpse of the other when they're running hot and they both also seem to have that 'expressionless face' down as well. Though, Ruiz certainly has it down better than Isolde.

"I don't-" Isolde starts to say when Erin whispers but then looks very startled when Boris seems oh so excited to see her again. She looks something like a cat - cornered between a river and a bigger cat. Her mind is racing, trying to piece together bits of information that Boris is providing. It would seem Isolde has a track record of just vanishing from people's lives without a word.

Then something clicks into place. "Boris!" She repeats, lighting up a touch. "I remember! Kind of. I remember-" She paused a moment. Bad things. Reasons that she ran off. Isolde shakes her head. "The kittens." She nods again. "And climbing to roofs sometimes to see..." She reaches out to takes his hands and give them a squeeze. "What's the possum's name?" Releasing his hands and leaning down to see it better. She also is totally fine with other people talking to Moira.

Hyacinth follows and stays reserved quiet. It's not requiring telepathy to read her face that there's a talking rodent. Green eyes are huge and her attention hasn't been this focused since she's used her table saw and making sure her manicure isn't ruined the ugly way. "Oh there's kittens?" She looks to Erin, Ruiz, and back to Vyv in that look of someone explain the kittens. She's a mentalist, not a vet tech. Not to be one to hate on a host though the smile comes out "Well it's a pleasure to meet you."

At least it seemed like something was happening. The Moira lady didn't seem friendly, at least to her, but as long as she was opening up to someone! She remains nearby Ruiz though her curiosity also holds out as she memorizes the faces of those opposite them. She still has mnothing much to say, but it seems like she has everything to learn. By listening, perhaps.

Ruiz is not at all shy about taking Moira's measure when she meets his gaze directly. His shoulders straighten a fraction, as if tugged slightly by an invisible filament. "Buenos dias," he greets the man, with a flick of dark eyes his way. He recognises the accent perhaps, and though they hail from a continent apart, there's likely enough similarity in their language for most of what he says to be understood. "Gracias por permitirnos hablar con usted. Y por tu hospitalidad."

Back to Moira, he prowls in a bit closer, flicking a little ash from his cigarette. "We've got a few questions for you." He looks askance to Vyv, and then Itzhak, as if silently wondering whether they'd like to start the barrage.

Itzhak bristles when Isolde reacts with fear to Boris. He performs his best menacing loom over Isolde, staring at Boris. "Pal, take it easy," he warns in a harsh mutter. But then it's okay. She remembers him and she's interested in the animals. And, oh! She remembers! She's talking about her past! Itzhak stands down, sidling a careful half-step back to signal everything's okay...for now.

He huffs a breath between his teeth, glances at Ruiz, then at Moira. "Thing is," he says to her, like they're picking up an old conversation, "we banished a murder ghost, and he shut all the doors behind him. We wanted to see if shit's the same at other thin spots. So, yannow. If that happened to youse guys too." Ugh, he's a really bad diplomat, but he's trying.

Eleanor smiles at August's whisper and kisses his cheek gently with a nod. She turns to look to the others as they ask questions, and to the strangers for the answers.

Vyv carries himself as though they're-- well, in surroundings he'd prefer, possibly ones that are actually his own, and Moira's return greeting gets a return almost-smile as well. "Thank you for seeing us. Vyvyan Vydal, how do you do." It's not a question, simply an introduction. Questions come later! As do kittens, possibly. "As he says," with a small gesture toward Itzhak, "we had an-- incident with a ghost that required banishment. The method we attempted appears to have worked, but the... reach of various people's powers was diminished. I believe considerably, in some cases. We weren't sure how far the effect might extend, though now that we're here, it seems as though it's local. So that's... presumably positive." Presumably. "Have you ever encountered or heard of anything similar occurring, by chance?"

Erin's face is probably giving far too much away. The question asked is something she's been wanting an answer to since it happened. There's undeniable hope there. Hope for something to help them fix things. Hope for something to make things right again. Her hands clench tightly together. With the comeback, she looks crestfallen and she looks away, trying to keep herself composed.

Isolde looks up at Itzhak, giving him a reassuring smile. Everything was okay. She's totally content to talk to Boris and is definitely concocting a plan to make Alexander believe she's returned from Portland with a new pet possum. Because he'd love that almost as much as he'd love Veil Frogs. Isolde holds her hands out carefully so the rat can crawl into her hands if it wishes.

"They are better. Ish." Isolde relents. "Since living in Gray Harbor they are better. Still..piecing together things. How have you been? Are the kittens still around? Or did their time pass?" Because all good things came to an end right? She cuts a glance to Moira when the woman claims Gray Harbor is broken, but does a good job of holding her tongue. Likely because she is distracted by adorably ugly rodents.

"No Ma'am," Eleanor says in a soft tone. "I don't think Gray Harbor will let any of us go. Some of us were born there, the rest? It called them. Brought them to the town. When we leave for more than a little bit, we find ourselves needing to go back. Those of us who Glimmer, at least. My parents don't, and they moved to Florida and are fine. My brother and I are stuck there though." She gives a little shrug.

"Does any word of the weird things that happen in the Harbor trickle down here? Or are we on an island so to speak? I wouldn't have known anywhere else was like there, if people from other places hadn't come and told us they had similar experiences. Like here, for you, like some warzones and a few other places around the world."

Hyacinth watches letting the hospitality dance play out. And then there's that... inkling. Lined eyes watch as her bestie pulls out some clutch British hospitality negotiating. All those head on discussions with his grandmother's paid off! But she can feel it and she doesn't look but there is, like a ghostly cold hand on the back of Itzhak's neck, her will that seems to pull the choke chain on that impulse and the voice, that is so clearly hers not hiding that says to his ire Not now. You'll have your time. Her eyes don't leave the drama play out, taking in the details, but there is a calm that hits like cold water. What he does with it? well that's his own. She is only here to douse the pilot light before it ignites a keg of dynamite.

Now that those with more understanding of what's been happening are asking the questions, Ruiz seems content enough to fall back to the role of somewhat menacing looking guy with a gun. He lingers near Erin, seeing as he came along with her as her bodyguard of sorts, and smokes his cigarette and listens.

Itzhak nods back to the handsome young man, wary, cautious, but willing to accept his opinion as a peer. He jerks a thumb at his chest. "Rosencrantz." Then Moira asks him if he's sure he's not here to invade them and a certain spark lights Itzhak's eyes. Oh no. He's about to open his mouth to say something like 'God knows you got a palatial estate here, who WOULDN'T want to live in a fucking sewer' or 'lady if I wanted your shit I would take it' or something, ANYTHING else that would ruin negotiations before they've properly begun.

Hya's mental cold whaps him in the mind, and he shudders, eyes going wide and startled. He swallows. Twice. Sniffs. "Don't want your place," he says, brisk. "Just wanna fix ours."

Maybe it's a side effect of mild surprise at the mention of the ripple, but the mention of 'breaking theirs' (perhaps along with the idea of claiming this one?) gets a breath of a laugh out of Vyv, though the accompanying upturn at the corners of his mouth is subtle. "I suspect most of us would prefer to repair it," he says, "given the option, but in any case it's not so broken as all that." Also he's not glimmerful enough for it to have a huge direct impact on him, but surely that's neither here nor there. "And I'm sure relocation would be inconvenient for everyone. No, we're much more concerned with figuring out just what's happened, and ideally, what we might be able to do about it. So you did feel something occur -- do you know just when? -- but it didn't appear to have any other effect this far out, mm? I wonder how far it might have been felt... and I suppose that means nothing similar's happened within range in anyone here's time, then?"

"Maybe I can visit them before we go back home." Isolde offered, making a barely audible squeak of excitement when Layla scurries up her arm. So. CUTE! She's wearing a fairly cozy looking sweater that might be half a size too big for her. She cuts Moira another look. Her eyes narrowed for half a second. This old bat was really trying her patience. But then Layla scurried across the back of her neck to her other shoulder and distracted her from lashing out. Good job Layla. She reaches out to see if Miranda will let Isolde give her a quick scritch before slowly and carefully rising back to her feet.

Ruiz is, for a variety of reasons, well-versed in how these sorts of things work. Territories and lines in the sand and plenty here who won't be friendly to incursions. "We're not interested in taking anything from you," he feels the need to underscore. He doesn't have August's deep baritone, or the benefit of volume to draw attention to him, but there is an edge to his tone that suggests a temper that can unravel quickly and without warning.

"We'd like to know what happened. And what we can do about it." His eyes flick to Vyv, then back to Moira. "As my friend has said."

Hyacinth lifts a hand and rests a finger on Itzhak's shoulder arching an eyebrow. There's a long conversation in a glance that seems to culminate in what appears to simply be Approval or possibly a emotion that might be Hya-grade concern. Compassion is so not an emotion in her wheelhouse, but action seems to be. Her voice, clear, curious and used to running a room takes a companionably tone and asks on the tail end of Ruiz' query, "Is there something that might be able to be offered as a token of good will to extend our appreciation of this aid you are providing in speaking with us as to not leave you bereft?" She makes no promised to actually give anything but it's worth asking.

"Please, if you know anything. It may not seem important to you, but it's made a world of difference to some of us." Erin inputs finally. "Any sort of ideas or information. Even suspicions. Can you tell us anything?" She was being pushy, she realized it, but the stakes were high.

Eleanor falls quiet, so as not to deluge the people with questions, though she has a few of her own stored up. She squeezes August's hand to remind him she's got his back, no matter what.

Itzhak, mouth twisted up funny, glances at Hya. Yeah he knows what she did. He also knows probably it was a good idea. He wants to be mad at her, but that's a lot less important, now. So he just quirks his eyebrows at her, and when Isolde stands up, reaches to take her hand. "I didn't know you could make a place like this," he mutters, looking around with new appreciation. "...bet I could do it."

"We've no intentions of incurring," Vyv says mildly, and if the veiled threat gives any temptation to posture as to the likely outcome if the entire glimmer-population of Gray Harbor decided to descent upon the tunnels, then he does a very creditable job of keeping the hackles smoothly under control for the time being. A small gesture in Ruiz's direction underlines their general agreement on this front, at the least. "And we do appreciate your hospitality." There's a barely perceptible hint of emphasis on that last word: they are guests. He acknowledges this. And it has expectations that go both ways.

TThere is a rat running over Isolde's arm and shoulders, and he really can't help glancing sidelong at that. Piebald means it's at least domestic, yes? Not one native to the sewers? It still kind of makes his palms itch. "Perhaps we ought to try to stay in better touch," he muses, drawing that portion of his attention back, "so that neither area is too tense if something unusual occurs. You'd have known that something had gone oddly with the veil in our parts, and we'd have known it was felt as far as yours, which seems the sort of thing it might be to all our advantages to know." As far as precise questions, he gives her time to answer the others before chiming in again.

Isolde gave Itzhak's hand a squeeze. "Probably." She murmured, though her mental mind reached out to him, <<And it would be a hundred times better than this place.>> She reached her free arm out so that Layla could run back down her arm and back to Boris. "Goodbye Boris." She gives him a smile.

The smile fades a touch at Moira but she manages to keep it more or less in tact. Just nodding a bit at her and August being the ones to figure out getting back in touch.

Eleanor has a million questions, but the idea of a shared information network between the Glimmering of the two thin spots has her excited. "I would love to exchange information with anyone willing. I do a lot of research into things of this nature," she offers.

Hyacinth warms that smile up and dips her head in agreement, "We...appresiate that and how much it might put you out. And thank yo, again." Looking to Itzhakshe blinks and simply declares, "I've got your lunch." And that's all the you're welcome or I'm sorry there seems to be on that, but she's acknowledging her action. Vyv, however, gets an air smooch and a gesture of her hand that might be And we leave now.

"Thank you," Vyv says to Moira, though the head-inclination of farewell is for all four of them, and he gives Hya a faint smile for her air-smooch, making a similar 'yup, out we go' little hand gesture in unspoken reply and turning back the way we came, ready to pick his way right back out into wetter but less decaying circumstances. And, ideally, get lunch.