2020-01-17 - Loot and Spray

Knock knock. Lilith is knocking on James Hecker's inherited front door with a bag loaded with to-go Italian food (pizza for the fridge, pasta for now) and a case of nice craft beer along with Byron. Both of them have late duties tonight and co-arranged an afternoon food date and time of space for a few hours. Therefore, they've already had their lunch before coming over onto Spruce Street. While eating, Lilith texts to see if James is home with a casual inquiry, then they talk about stopping by to surprise Hecker with some bachelor-style thank you gifts in the form of food and beer and company (and looting in Lilith's nosy case). So now they're here for part of the afternoon between work duties or whatever else they have going on for the day. Surprise!

Shifting her handbag over her shoulder with Raid from the grocery store she ran in to get as ammo before coming over, she looks at Byron while waiting for James to answer, nudging him with her hip, "If he's busy, we'll find a way to use these hours entirely non-constructively instead of socially, handsome. Then maybe I'll be able to let you sleep tonight."

"... coming!", can be heard from distantly inside the house. Then there's noises from inside- footsteps, a yelp, hopping? Something clatters, several somethings spill. "-ther*fucker*!", comes James' voice, closer now. Then there's a thump against the door from the inside, and the rattling of the doorknob. Click click clack, and the door finally swings open, revealing James in his usual hoodied lack of glory. He's leaning against the doorframe and looks like he's either heavily stoned or heavily drunk. And there's a thin golden chain tangled in his beard. "...hic. Lyron. Bilith. Hiiiii.", he slurs, then furrows his brow. "... wait, wha..?" He pats himself down awkwardly, then reaches for his face, and dislodges the chain from his beard. "Ah fuck." And the tosses it behind him, immediately looking sober. "... fucking hell. Sorry. Hey. Uhm. Come... in, I guess? I feel like I should make you guys sign a waiver or something first."

Behind him, the house looks a bit like... you know that scene in Aladin in the treasure room where there's so much treasure everywhere that it practically forms a landscape all its own? Well it's kinda like that but instead of treasure it's just all manner of... crap.

In Byron's mind, surprising someone at their home who doesn't particularly seem to like being there was quite the risk that Lilith was willing to take. In the case that Hecker was home, however, he's at least dressed more casually with a gray sweater, a pair of blue jeans and some black boots. For winter weather, he's also wearing a black leather jacket and matching leather gloves. There's also a heavy scarf wrapped around his neck and a knit cap protecting that perfect hair of his.

While they've brought food, he's also brought several boxes of trash bags and a few boxes which lay at their feet for now as they wait for the knock to, hopefully, be answered. "If you ask me, I'd say that you planned this in the hopes that James isn't home." This is said with a smug enough smile, his eyes on the door for a time before he half-turns to face Lilith. "And you know the saying: Sleep is for the weak." Normally, Byron would be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but for the last who knows how long, he's been suffering from a bad case of hypothermia or hypothermic symptoms at the very least. While his body isn't wracked with pain anymore the way it was before New Years, he's still needing to draw in deep breaths to regulate his breathing from this cold.

A surprised look that turns into something more amused comes over him when Hecker does answer the door. "All I'm hoping for is that your freakin' fireplace is working. Just tell me that much."

Carrying everything they've brought inside, Byron finally gets to give the interior a good look before finding an out of the way enough space to kick the boxes towards and to set down the garbage bags. In this leaned over position, his brow partly furrowed and raised at the same time, he's almost afraid to breathe in this dust when he looks to James, "We didn't catch you at a bad time did we?" It's obvious to him that they probably did. "Just glad that we caught you when you were still home."

"No, no. It's okay. I like this. And I brought Raid and fireballs to fight the Alpha Roach, it's totally fine. Thanks for watching the cat. Didn't steal your breath while you were sleeping or claw your face off or anything, I see. That's good. I'm not entirely convinced I'll make it through the night sometimes, the way he goes looking at me." Lilith grins some at Byron's age-old adage, then assures James with a lean around him to look inside once the door opens. When he steps back to invite them in, she hefts the beer and bag of food and then some with the delicious garlic and cheese aromas telltale as to what's inside, along with the shape of the pizza box carried as a support under the bag.

Now. Once Lilith is actually inside, it's not the normal reaction a girl might have to an inherited hoarder place, nor is the fact that James had a gold chain tangled in his beard there for a moment, "Are you trying to find ways to bling the ginger up like a Viking king? Jesus, I didn't know getting you manly body wash would make you so adventurous."

Wearing her North Face black and teal coat, she gets out of it once inside after finding a makeshift surface en-route to what she suspects to be the kitchen for putting beer and food on. She's wearing a clinging red v-neck sweater with fitted black leggings and a pair of silver and black lace up winter boots with tiny heels on them, and she picks through mess like a champ with her feet while looking at the rooms like it's a damned loaded wonderland, "And my good gracious, you were NOT kidding. This excites me."

James raises a brow at Byron's words. "... it's always a bad time in this house.", he deadpans. Unless they have his same sensitivity to emotions and memories, they probably don't feel quite so much of the oppressive pall that lays over every inch of the place, the slow molasses flow of air loaded with all the petty little evils of man. But even without it, after a few moments immersed in it, it's hard to miss entirely. "And yeah, you can use the fireplace, if you can find it. Tho maybe I'd check to make sure Uncle Dan didn't stuff things up in there too."

Lilith's mention of the cat draws his attention over to her. "No, the cat and I had an understanding." flashback to scene of James and the cat scowling at one another from opposite sides of a room, for several hours straight

And then she's off getting all worked up over the crap-piles. He glances up at Byron. "Damn. Looks like I just stole your girl, man. This is gonna be real awkward to explain to Diana."

Unlike some mentalists, Byron's powers are hardly ever on. Perhaps he'd found a way to shut them down at a very early age, which is why he never knew he had powers until later. Or his developed differently and out of necessity than some of the others with his skill set. This usually means that lingering emotions doesn't affect him as deeply as it may others, not on an automatic level even if he may gauge just a small sense of this dread. It's also his own experience on returning back to Gray Harbor that has him being incredibly careful when handling particular items. Usually items found in a mess such as this place. So he'll at least willfully try to ensure that he's not accidentally reading anything.

That said, with how he's still trembling from cold, his own mental capabilities and his concentration isn't up-to-par the way they would be if he weren't freezing at this moment.

"The cat's not all that bad." Byron will say of Smog's defense. "He just looks pissed off all the time. Doesn't seem like it can be helped." By now, he's wandering further into the place to dig his way through to the fireplace , a structure that he finds himself crouches before so that he can remove any of the debris that might be blocking the way. Something that James says makes him laugh, "I've never been a huge fan of junk myself. Did I tell you, I had my mum throw out all the old stuff she was hording from our house before letting her move into my building?"

"He's conveniently better when you're around. But he's... tolerable, lately, and it might just be the face. We'll have to give him the Born Free test with open doors at some point and finish getting the destruction out of him before I let him down to run the shop too. Might as well jump in a Shadowman hole with all the things I'd have to fix, we go doing that right now." Lilith says to Byron while picking through some things she got distracted with after food drop off, agreeing with James' assessment on girl-stealing there after a moment of squinting, "And James is right, Byron, I'm not sleeping over at your place, I'm sleeping here like it's Disneyworld. This isn't just PAPERS and THINGS, there's actual value in here, if nothing hugely so on first glance. But I see so much potential to--"

Lilith fucks up. She reaches out to move something to see another thing that she thinks to be a broken frame with an original small Vaudeville advertisement poster of antiquity, definite pricy hipster art if no real historical value and... three things fall and fifteen roaches take off to scatter, which sends her hopping backwards. With her hand pulling a can of Raid out like firearm quickdraw, she flicks the cap and fires into the area roach squad before they all take off to... maybe die? One hangs behind as if to look at her like 'wtf lady' before it gets squirted on the running way too.

"Okay, I lied, I'm not sleeping here, but seriously, if you're down James, I could use a key for a short while. Also if you're not going to eat this food now, maybe you should hide it in the fridge before something carries it off." Lilith says while rubbing her hand down against a hip and tucking the Raid can back away after a cautionary moment of watching to see if any of the roaches come back. Unfortunately, what she thought she saw is buried now, so she turns to wonder, "Is there an attic? Have you been able to get in it?"

"That-", James tells Byron, "-is cold. But probably necessary." And then Lilith is having her showdown with the bugs, and he jumps. "Ah, shit, wait! Those were load-bearing roaches! Now that whole section is unbalanced!", he protests. And is probably kidding.

Maybe.

"Here, come this way, my bedroom. Don't bother with the kichen. I haven't even opened the fridge yet.", James says. He's been here for months now. "I just don't have it in me." He starts trying to lead them towards a door at the back of the house, presumably his bedroom. "I set up a mini-fridge in there. And a microwave. And, yeah, there's an attic.", he calls back. "The mere thought of going up there alone fills me with a kind of deep, soul-crushing terror that I just try to pretend I don't have an attic most days."

Whether the move was necessary or not, Byron only offers up this hint of a smile when James tells him just how cold forcing his mother to rid herself of all of her possessions was. "It's called downsizing and I think people should learn to do that more." What really fills the fireplace are more boxes and stacks of newspaper. Probably roaches and rats as well, though what Byron does ask about once the bulk of the boxes are removed, just as he's partially ducking down to look into the depths of the fireplace is, "I guess you wouldn't know if I should be expecting any bats to fly up out of here, huh? Hear any squawking or fluttering late at night?"

The idea of Lilith actually sleeping in this dump has Byron turning in her direction now, "Oh are you now?" Though he has to give the place a good look around, before adding, "I'm sure we'll be able to clear up some space to lay down a blanket and hope the wood's not full of bed bugs or worse." He's about to flash his phone light up into the fireplace to see if the way is clear, though something tells him that before they can even make use of the thing, they'd have to have the chimney cleaned somewhat, which doesn't help him at the moment at all.

But then there's some commotion Lilith-ward and he can hear the can of Raid being sprayed into the air, something that makes him lift his gloved hand to protect his mouth even if he isn't anywhere near that location. "Hopefully, after today Hecker can finally actually stay in this place after a bit of sprucing up." He just assumes that James is probably staying at Diana's or the murder motel. "How is Diana anyway?" Though Hecker might be trying to lure them out of the place, while he's given up on making use of the fireplace, Byron finally rises to stand at least.

"Kitchen should be first. Once you've cleared the kitchen and bathroom anyway, you can just camp out-- It's always a good place to start. I mean if we're doing actual cleaning and not just treasure hunting." Junk hunting to Byron.

Lilith grabs the food and beer to take into James' room as indicated with a little 'whoops' expression on her face at the protest, but it's rather short lived and probably not at all apologetic. Then she starts talking and walking, first with agreement to Byron before backpedaling a little bit with sheer curiosity when James talks about the attic, "I agree, I think you need those things and your sleep space useable to feel human, as a trio. But mm, an attic in an old Victorian that looks like this on the bottom floor is..."

On the way into James' bedroom, Lilith stops to stare at something, then waves Byron along ahead of her while getting out precautionary Raid can first this time. She also passes off the food and beer to him to free her hands when he goes by because she's suddenly like a hawk with spying... something's handle with a rusted and aged patina on it. Fixated, she murmurs, "I'll be along..." But on pulling the old hand mirror free, she makes an avalanche of boxes and old magazines and an old broken radio, then repeats the spray and pray process with the roaches to much better success this time. Some of them die before they can make it fully off and away. Also, she has her broken bounty in hand, which doesn't look like much-- it has no glass left in it, it has almost obscuring levels of tarnish on it, and grime caked in the decorative engravings, besides.

She also acts like she didn't cause that big tumble of stuff and spray commotion behind the guys on the way to the bedroom while catching up, but with the can of spray and frame of hand mirror crap in hand, she clearly... you know, did. "Didn't she..." Lilith pauses, about to ask Byron a question about his mother, presumably before shaking her head and changing her mind while tucking the can away, "When we get in your room, I'll show you what can happen to a lot of this stuff over time. Then you'll both think I'm a little less crazy for looking at all of this like a rainbow."

"Oh, Diana's doing great. Better than great. She's, like, amazing. And gorgeous. And whip-smart. And funny. And kind, but, like, mischievous? And I have no idea how she's still with me, but I figure when you win the lottery, well, you just gotta keep flapping as close to that sun as you can, little Mothman, flap flap flap.", is James' assessment of Diana's current state.

And then that next pile falls over, and he just stops in place, left eye twitching once as the shifting objects resonate with each other in a way not entirely unlike, but still wholly different from, ripples or even waves in a dark sea of inky poison. And a few of those waves just lapped over him. ".. mmnf."

James shakes himself off a little, and keeps tromping to the door, opening it to allow Byron and Lilith inside. "Here, we can eat here and plan out which and how many flamethrowers we need to get." Inside the medium-sized bedroom is... almost nothing. An air mattress right smack dab in the middle. Some cheap mesh cubes holding his collection of hoodies. A white mini-fridge and next to it a white microwave oven. All of it looks new, clean, fresh out of box. Nothing that would have had time to gather emotional residue. The closest thing to a Glimmer-free zone in the house.

"I say that unless you want to, there's no need to look inside of the fridge and just have the entire thing hauled out of here and replaced with a new one." Byron points out as he trails along towards Jame's room. "Unless your uncle is the type to hide valuables inside, otherwise all you may find is rotting food, you know." If anything, Byron's not afraid of dust and cobwebs or anything like that even if it is pretty gross and disgusting. This is Gray Harbor though, so roaches, rats or just about anything may become larger than life at any moment.

At the sound of a trash pile collapsing some steps behind him, he turns to Lilith, watching her spray some fleeing roaches dead. "Want me to help move things? Just point and i'll start digging. Then if you see anything, start spraying." Once those words are said, it makes him take slight pause, "Just not at me." This he says with a smile.

On entering the bedroom, he doesn't look for a place to sit immediately and rather they really could use something to drink at the very least. It does come as some relief that one room in the house looks livable and like always, he'll look the room over with mild curiosity. When Lilith joins them, he's already reaching for a couple of beers, one to hand over to her. "I don't doubt that you'll find some use for this stuff, but I'm not sure if any of this is older than what? The 1950's at the latest." Casting his eyes out at James, he asks, "When did your family come here anyway, do you know? Or are they one of the old families?" Like his, but it's not something that he thinks about.

Lilith takes her beer with her free hand and continues to eye her bounty of corroded metal mirror frame in the other once in the room, not yet doing anything impressive with it. She seems just as taken with it in current state as she would be an actual restoration, eyes a little far away, as if she's seeing it differently than the other two. And for all the pair of them know, she actually might have an altered view of it given what she can do.

Then she actually looks up and at the room they're in, comparing the stark contrast of impersonal newness, head tilting a bit before she looks at James. After a brief moment, she looks at her beer bottle and starts to automatically pop the top with indent crack of pressure, but stops to comment and ask with a sudden proud smile aside at Byron and a few quick and affectionate bats of her lashes, "Thanks. I almost shiny-cracked the top, but I stopped myself, are you proud? I think you should be, being a human bottle opener is a hard habit to break. I'm still conflicted about wine corks, though, seems like a lot of manual labor. Keychain bottle-crack me, baby."

Then, after holding her bottle out at Byron to flip open the good old fashioned way instead of the potential doom-bringer way, she tells James with a tick of her head at Byron, "This is how you know he really likes us, you know. Totally willing to dig and move trash out of the way and dodge roaches. Don't let all his suits fool you, he's still all about going elbows-deep in a job. And really, I wouldn't even open the fridge myself until it was outside, and I like to think I'm a brave little toaster. So moving it out to replace once there's room is a damn good idea." She pauses, eyeing the air mattress for a distracted moment, some passing curiosity taking her, "I know you've had weird things since being back, but were any of them in the house?"

James flumps onto the air mattress once he has his beer, raising it gratefully in Byron's direction. "I actually don't know a lot about my family history. Mom and Dad never really talked about it much with me? And Nana was never really all there, even before I was born, so she wasn't a great source of info." He pauses. "Then again, knowing what I know now, maybe she was just fine and we all just couldn't understand it yet. Who knows. I get the feeling we'd been here a few generations at least though.", he explains, before taking a long swig of his beer.

He chuckles as Lilith explains Byron's love for them, and nods his agreement at their assessment re: the fridge. "Yeah, maybe it's full of diamonds, maybe it's full of rotted carcasses. Either way, I ain't opening that shit." He gives a demonstrative little shudder before pulling up the sleeves on his hoodie, exposing his arms- a rare sight, he tends to keep himself pretty covered up. Minimizes skin contact, minimizes chances of stray visions discombobulating him.

Lilith's last question causes him to pause. "Not.. really? I mean other than just the foulness in the air of all those... memories. And I tripped and fell a few times into some of the piles when I first moved in, nearly had a freaking aneurysm from getting hit with so much psychic diarrhea."

"I don't know why you would ever let it be known that you have the ability to open bottles." Byron says, already cracking his own open with that keychain bottle opener. "That will just get everyone coming to you to open their bottles. Especially the lazy ones who don't carry an opener of their own." Though pondering on something, he has to ask now, "I'm not even sure how that works. I mean, you mend things and heal people. And break bone and slice flesh. Is this just a reversal of the item repair?" He only really knows what /his/ powers do even if there are things that he's still learning, so this leaves him curious about these other abilities. Nevertheless, once he's handed her bottle, he opens that as well, then hands it back.

Taking a sip from his own bottle now, he continues to wander around the cozy enough room, slowly turning to set eyes on James, "I knew that my family had lived here for some time now. The house," Which is no longer in his family's possession, "having been passed down for a few generations. Hell, Alexander Clayton was snooping around into Addington family business when he came to me with documents showing that my great grandmother had married into the Addingtons at one point. The Addington main line has Thorne blood coursing in them whether they want it or not." There's some amusement in his voice before taking another drink, before he states in a more even and somewhat thoguhtful tone. "She was Margaret Addington's mother." The influential family's current matriarch.

Taking a position near Lilith, his arms crossed over his chest and his frame leaning against the wall, he makes sure to add, "If it filled with diamonds and treasures, we're claiming it. I mean, since you'd have no idea what was in it anyway. And if it's full of corpses well, we'll deal with that as well." Probably by calling the police. The mentalist's dilemma, especially for those who had recently returned to town or newly moved to town has Thorne nodding. "I remember that happening when I first got back to town. Sometimes if it's a particularly strong emotion, it can trigger as well, even after you've developed mental blocks against things like that."

"Man, you can keep it if it's diamonds and gold. Just give me a finder's fee or something and we can call it even.", James replies without hesitation. "I wouldn't even know what to do with that much money. It'd destroy me. You'd read about how I died from autoerotic asphyxiation on the third floor bathroom of my secret bunker in Montana or something in a few years."

The revelation that there's Thorne blood in the Addington line just draws a bark of laughter from James, and he shakes his head after taking another swig of beer, then he listens as Byron mentions his own problems with reading emotions before. "Yeah. I'm still... learning to do that. I spent 15 years thinking I was crazy because of this shit, y'know. Taking medications, going to therapist after therapist." He sighs. "There's a big ol' part of me that still refuses to believe any of this."

"A Finder's Fee it is." Byron is more than happy to agree with, looking rather pleased by this deal. Not that he expects the fridge to hold any such treasures. What he does expect to find is rotting and expired food. A smile then forms on his lips, followed by a laugh. "At least by the time you die from autoerotic asphyxiation, you would've had a great time leading up to that moment... or maybe even beyond that point. Whenever your pleasure sensors shut down with the lack of oxygen to the brain." He also can't help but furrow his brow, "A bunker in Montana though? Sounds like some wild party and I say this because even with your death by autoerotic asphyxiation," That's quite a fun thing to say, "Doesn't mean you didn't have a hot audience observing the whole thing-- I mean, if you're into that sort of thing." That bottle lifts up to Byron's lips again when he takes another deep drink.

He has nothing more to add about his Addington connection. The Addingtons themselves have had no real relationship with his family in their time of crisis of ever, as far as he's concerned... well, until recently. "See, I can't say whether I was lucky or not to completely forget everything that happened here. I recalled none of it. I knew Tobin's mother was missing, but I'd forgotten the madness that surrounded this place and, in truth, perhaps I never really understood our town completely. Even after I'd realized I had these abilities. Which is why once I left town, I never thought about any of that ever. It completely slipped my mind."

It's at this moment that he almost remembers something. Another time and another place where he'd experienced something odd, but even that is fleeting. Or at the very least, he'd dismissed it as a dream with the small d.

Lilith swigs from her beer and lifts on her toes to catch Byron with a kiss on the cheek while listening to the two guys with open interest, despite the way her eyes keep moving with fascination to what's in her other hand. Then she considers the question about how exactly she does things or how they relate at all, and after some delay, she ticks her head into small nod about the speculation of reverse repair, "... it's kind of like that. Reverse repair. Healing people is like... fixing a machine for me too, or looking at all the pieces, but it..." After trying to explain, she makes a 'tsst' of noise while looking at the beer bottle, then the mirror indicatively.

"When I pop a beer bottle, I pinpoint a place in the middle and break it down structurally until it starts to indent and the pressure on the seal pops. I can... see lattices like stable matter patterns in items. It's how I know from experience with a lot of junk what's... probably real and not real. It's also how I know this is silver under all this corrosion from seawater." While explaining for Byron and James by extension, she works her bottom lip between her teeth with pause, then focuses on the latter ginger man himself with a sort of distance and fixation alike to her eyes, "Living things, people especially, I don't... think of it like healing or medical, I think about all the tiny machines I can see that are constantly moving and aligned. And when something's broken, I fix the bigger machine with the tiny machines." She pauses, "Breaking is easier than fixing, for me. That's why I don't have to think to pop a bottle with precision use, but I need some kind of focus and concentration and stress over mending people."

Then, after she's made her study of James, she swigs from her beer and looks at Byron, "I can see patterns in people too, even though everything's moving. I can see the likeness in you two , for instance, when I concentrate and compare." She pauses a little awkwardly then and looks back down at the mirror frame, suddenly going just a wee bit bashful after explaining all that and hearing how it sounds aloud. Lilith's always been fascinated with picking things apart and knowing how they work on a base level, though, so is all this all that hard to understand, knowing that? Maybe not. Either way, she's not accustomed to explaining at length, which brings a rare state about here there for a few ticks.

James snerks, and takes another swig of his beer as Byron describes the hedonistic fantasy he presumes James would be living in. "Nah, man. Not my scene, that.", he replies, still chuckling. "The audience, I mean, not the bunker. Man, I would bunker up tonight if I could. Two foot thick cement walls between me and the world? Just have to make sure there's room to setup some hydroponics for obvious reasons, and I'm golden."

He listens curiously as Lilith describes her abilities, and does her not-creepy-at-all study of him while comparing him to a machine. "Beep boop.", he deadpans. "Also that's a terrifying amount of power over what sounds a hell of a lot like the very nature of space and matter, and I am very glad I'm your friend and not your enemy."

There's some fascination when Healers or Menders talk about viewing things at their molecular structure, even if most Menders don't go into details the way Lilith likes to when explaining. Thus Spiritualists always seem to be a big mystery, though not as big as say, the very few Pushers or Pullers (physicists) that there are in this town. "That's quite interesting and very different from what I," and James and a whole bunch of other people, "Do. See, for the most part, I don't go seeking out what someone's emotions are. Nor do I probably want to know. For me, at least, it's not something automatic and if I really want to know what someone is thinking or feeling, I need to put the effort to look into it. Others, however," And here he shrugs, "There's some who say they can't shut the emotions out of their heads. They have my sympathy. I never had to deal with that kind of bullshit." Which is probably why he's not as traumatized as some other mentalists are. Not in that regard anyway.

Hearing her mention these patterns again, Byron looks at Lilith curiously, "You mean physically? I mean, I'd assume so. We're both humans after all." Though it's to James that he speaks next, licking idly at his lips between swigs of beer. "Any of us can become your enemy at any moment. Just a warning." Because it's happened before.

Lilith shakes her head a little bit at Byron, then looks at James and him again while listening, especially when the former gets to the bit about not being able to shut things out. When he gets there, her brows knit a smidge while she's looking at Hecker, then she looks over her shoulder at the doorway leading to where the rest of the house is literally piled to breathe out a tiny 'ah', "... I mean I can tell you both are mindbangers to differing extents when I pay attention. A person with ability has uh. A power signature when something is dominant? Different pulses from different areas, it's hard to explain."

Then with the corner of her mouth suddenly picking up with delay at James' assessment, she murmurs, "You make it sound so cool, like being master of the Universe. It's kind of hard to contain because Jean Gray complex, I guess. But I would find 'feeling' and things rubbing off on me with 'feeling' pretty damn hard too, maybe moreso." She goes contemplative a moment, then gestures to James with her beer bottle, "It's not all bad, see. I can do things like this, to your pocket benefit." Byron's seen her work, but what she's pulling off now is literally almost creationism as much as it is restoration, not just filling in missing gaps.

Lilith doesn't really have to prepare, Byron knows that enough too, she can slam things one way or another with ridiculous knitting or ripping. But she's trying to be precise and slow and let them watch the transformation. So she puts her back against the wall, slides down into sit, then crosses her legs to hold the mirror up for them to see. In a gradual wash, the corrosion begins to degrade and reverse, flakes of old grime fall free, shining and unscratched polished silver emerging. The frame is restored to show beautiful engraving and beveling in floral and vine swirl patterns, but the repair doesn't stop there. Inside the frame begins to shimmer and shine and rise up with reflection filling the space until there's glass in perfection, as there should be.

Also it looks like the old hand mirror from the old lady on the boat with the Titanic expedition, so that's cool. And... strange to have just laying around. Which Lilith clues into with a little 'woah' herself once she can see the original state of the gilded and decorated mirror, "... the hell, James, I thought you said this was all junk? I expected silver to turn or weight melt for value, but this is an actual antique. Why is it in your living room hidden between things?"

James raises a hand and sighs, looking down, at Byron's words. "Thank you for your sympathy.", he says, then clarifies. "I mean, it's not always on for me, but tends to just pop on if I get startled or am stressed. As you might imagine, that shit got pretty overwhelming back in New York, and it still wasn't nearly as strong as it is when it hits here." He can't help but smile at those last words. "Oh I know, but I figure when that happens I'm screwed anyway, so, I'll just count my lucky stars that we're all on the same side for as long as that lasts, yeah?"

When Lilith explains a little more, he settles in to watch what she does with the mirror, eyes widening. "... holy shit.", he murmurs. "That... is fucking weird. Cool, though.", he says, letting out a breath. "Seriously. Y'all are the goddamn X-Men."

He scoots closer when she asks why it was with the rest of the trash in the living room. "... I'll tell you why.", he says, and after a moment's hesitation, reaches out and touches the back of the mirror. For a moment his eyes go blank, and then he gasps and pulls his hand away as if the mirror burned him. "Fucking hell!", he shouts, hyperventilating a little. "... fuck. Just.. ugh. Look, that thing belongs out there with the rest of it, trust me.", he says, looking pale.

"New York. We were wondering which locations, which cities might be possible, uh... thin points where shit like this happens more often." Byron brings up, hearing about James' time in New York. "I thought someone said that New York wasn't one of them, but if your powers were inadvertently working while you were there. I mean, New York's a big place. I'm glad I had no memory of mine and was completely powered down when I was in L.A. Otherwise," Here, he just has to grin broadly, "You know what? With my ability to keep everyone else's emotions at bay as it is?" There's this cynical shake of his head now, "I've said it before, I could've made a /killing/ in L.A. with that kind of power." No, he does not sound power hungry at all.

Now it seems that both he and James are watching Lilith work her magic. This is something that Byron's seen many time before and on a grander scale than even this, but yet, he still watches with some glimmer of curiosity in his dark eyes. "What I want to know is if any of us can turn anything into gold or diamonds or something." Definitely not greedy as well... "That would be quite the power, I think."

However, James' reaction to the mirror gets a lift of his brow that makes him wonder what freaked the guy out just now. Despite, you know, it probably being the mirror. Byron knows all too well the dangers of doing any sort of reading in a place like this which may or may not have a ton of emotional residue attached to it. This is why he doesn't even dare read people's emotions in his old childhood home as well. He knows of the dark emotions trapped within the Thorne House. This is why he doesn't immediately try to gauge the situation here and now. Instead, he asks, all without looking at James and only partially seeming to pay attention to the mirror, "What did you say, James?" His eyes, at the moment, flicker up to peer out at Lilith.

"There's actually a number of ways I can turn you profit with other small investment ventures in antique and precious metal or jewelry recovery with the buy low and damaged, sell high principle. That is, as long as you have time to sit and wait on buyers on auctions and can afford the fees comfortably in bulk, which the steady and significant profit margins make up over--" Lilith trails off and starts to ramble off a potential auction profit flow to Byron while admiring the actual mirror frame. Then when James touches the thing and explains in his hyperventilating way about where the damn mirror maybe ought to be... paranoia sets in. She's had a bad time after touching cursed items firsthand, but then she reminds herself that he's probably feeling residue, not a curse, and she handles items all the time, this is fine.

That said, while she's handling it calmly enough with the initial startle at the change of volume in James' voice, she avoids looking straight into the glass for some reason and leaves it turned down toward the floor while pushing into a stand. Then she gets her Raid can and briefly steps into the other room to hang out of the front door. She puts the mirror in the mailbox outside as a holding box to pick up the item on the way out and explains that while walking back in (after an audible can shake and spray at something).

"I'll take it out of here and make you some money for that new fridge and so on." She seems to have at least caught on about the spartan neutral impersonal newness of the room as a whole now, but still seems confused as to why she found what she found, "What did your uncle do?"

Then she holds up a hand while looking back into the hallway and gives James a moment to compose himself, instead, "Actually, hold that thought. I'll see what else I can spray and find to take out of here for you before the big haul, sound good? Good." She's all about this plan, seems. But the big clean up and questions clearly are coming later. Mostly she's spraying Raid.