2020-09-18 - Dangerously Distorted

---- BAYSIDE APARTMENTS PARKING GARAGE ----

Lilith steps out of the elevator that leads straight into the parking garage where Byron is waiting to pick her up in the rental Lincoln, the purring echo of the engine drowned by the thunderstorm and rain coming down outside. It's 4:02 pm on Friday and the brunette woman is wearing a white little sundress and sandals, hair pulled into a high and stylish twist bun out of the way. It's not the best color choice for piss down rain, but her slide on sandals aren't heels today, and she's wearing a small navy blue open cardigan on account of the weather.

Despite being prettily and relatively simply dressed, the accents of her gifted diamond Piaget rose earrings and pendant and bracelet give her some elegant glitzing to go with the Tiffany diamond on her finger. She's also light on makeup all around given the rain and summer humidity, but she's made a point to wear a deep and daring dusky rose lipstick to face the outside world with.

Lilith is vaguely nervous about going out, it's been a good few days, at the least, especially given how much people love to hate her right now around Gray Harbor. Therefore, she's put on the kind of lipstick that says 'fuck you' or 'fuck me' like feminine battle paint to bolster her mood. When she gets into the car, she's also quick to give Byron a smile that flashes her neat teeth and scrunches her nose just so with genuine happiness to see him. Tumbling out greeting, word after word, she comes in for a brief brush of kiss, "Hi. Shop first, please. I picked a piss poor day to get cabin fever and ask for a ride, didn't I? Does this car even have an umbrella warmer...? What are we going to do without one?"

Then the woman keeps right on going with her mouth while checking her seatbelt and pulling her phone from her handbag once it's settled between her legs in the floorboard, "There's a tactic to this, though. Those five people that have been picketing my business off and on... the ones Barnes told me about... they probably aren't going to be there if it's pouring rain, see. Then I don't have to ruin anyone. And if I do have to ruin someone, at least the rain will wash the blood off of the parking lot. How was work? Thank you for cutting out a little early tonight to errand me around."

So. Basically, Lilith is telling herself this day and outing is going to be just fine and she's presenting just that to Byron. That and she truly is happy as a lark to see him, especially with how much she's been cooped up Penthouse-style lately to work from home and avoid fighting the public trolls. Maybe all the talking spilling out of her in rapid succession is just cooped up energy, but... the man knows it's also apt to be nerves as much as anything.

In all honesty, it's not every day that Byron heads out to the casino. He's in an enviable position where he can just work from home like he used to. Some meetings, however, are better done in a more easily accessible space and the casino is exactly that. Placing himself out in the public was always going to be a risk. While he was able to convince many of his employees and staff that he was not fucking dead, there are always new faces that show up who sometimes bring up this unfortunate untruth. Or not in their... reality? Did that mean that another version of him was suffering or had suffered at Lilith's hands elsewhere? The Thorne backyard hinted on this fact.

Hearing the ping of the elevator reaching this level, Byron is drawn out of his thoughts to greet Lilith with his dark eyes as he watches her approach his car. Unlocking the door with his master control, he informs her that he picked up iced coffee along the way. Irish Cream. "Hey, beautiful." He says, leaning in for that kiss. "Unfortunately, no. This car has no special compartment to dry and warm up umbrellas. So we'll have to make do the way everyone else does and get water dripping all over the interior of the car no matter how much you try to shake it out before shutting the door."

Once she's belted in, the car pulls out and starts its way up from the parking garage and through the entrance gates. "Work's been fine. Despite murders hitting the news among other things, people never shy away from parting with their money. Which I find endearing and highly profitable." Keeping his eyes on the road, especially since it's a stormy day, he asks, "How about you? Smog acting up?" Then he asks what he's been thinking this whole time, "Are you comfortable about this plan to lure this killer out?"

Lilith clicks her tongue once at the sheer misfortune of having a wet umbrella with no warm incubator compartment like there is inside the Wraith. It amuses her, thinking of the first time she got into it when they had their first real drinks together with her arrival properly back in town-- she'd made a joke about it being an incubator to breed baby umbrellas in bulk and honestly, she still thinks of that visual silliness here and again on rainy days when the subject comes up or when the compartment is used. A vague smile tugs at her lips, but she's not going to miss the chance to bitch about the cat once it's brought up. It's a pretty mild complaint for her, though.

"Ugh, this new ass-cuddling thing he's into while I'm on the couch is about to drive me nuts. I wish he'd just go back to staring at me while mouth-breathing and plotting my doom. It makes me sit all twisted for hours at a time and I think I have a kink in my lower back. The unsexy-kind of kink. Honestly, he gets any more up my ass lately, you're probably going to have to get him nutted on principle." Pause, "It is a nice ass, though."

As they pull out onto the street, the car is at least more inconspicuous about town than the Wraith... which people would know as the (late) Byron Thorne's vehicle, probably being driven by his dastardly Brit of a twin brother and his harlot, murdering fiancée. The rental has tactical perks, at least, in lieu of other amenities. Then the man asks a question that takes a moment to think on, instead of spilling off at the mouth while emailing something on her phone with quick-flying, French-manicured fingertips.

"I suppose so. I didn't plan on being more than tangentially involved in helping, to tell the truth. I'm not really worried about a single man, even if he is a serial killer. It seems so paltry to handle and deal with compared to what we tend to fight and face, you know?" Lilith looks aside at Byron driving, instead of her phone, the wipers playing accompaniment on the rainy windshield while she thinks, "I know this isn't what you want to hear, but I could use someone or something to fight. It's straightforward and even in a worst case scenario? He's still just a man. I'm not overly worried unless he's not working alone and has a whole empowered cult."

The brunette sighs and drops her head back against the seat to look at the ceiling and blow out a long breath of frustration, "We can't fix any of our other problems, might as well give a weirdo killer a hard time and... walk in with the upper hand and a plan for something. Everything else is just..."

Eggshells. She's waiting for everything else going on in their life to bite the hell out of them at all hours of every single day since his birthday. Hell, even before that. But she doesn't finish that sentence, she turns her head at rest to eye Byron while he drives, "What about you?"

"He's a man who pulled Bennie into a Dream." Byron reminds Lilith. "We can't even do that. So he's not just a man." In fact, that's what Byron's been thinking about since Bennie showed up at his place covered in scripture. "But if he's targeting people who shine, I suppose even if he wasn't, he's got to be taken down. Like I told the others, it's not our responsibility, but we sure got a lot of civilians up for the task." Even if Abitha is a part of the GHPD in whatever degree, for now, he really still counts her as just a common citizen like the rest of them.

There's no immediate response to when she says that she needs this, however. He understands what she means. Not only does he know about this dark restlessness inside of her, from what she's told him, but she's been cooped up with nowhere to go ever since things got wonky due to having their names stolen.

"What I think about your involvement in this? Or what do I think overall?" He shrugs his shoulders, "I know that it has to be done and since this isn't your run of the mill murderer, maybe it is a job for us. Those with the light. I can't say that I like it and I find it foolish for people to go running around like their superheroes without capes, but it is what it is. And this isn't some mundane murder case." Even though just earlier, he was willing to leave it to the GHPD!

"It's not like the cops are real cops half the time in this place, which... is just the way the climate goes. There's probably some point where... people like us get vetted into something more than just civilians. I know I tend to get into the thick of things, but I... don't particularly like playing hero-fixer for the greater good, most of the time." There's a click of the brunette woman's tongue before she continues, "Your future wife is kind of a dick, my dear. But if you haven't figured that out by now..."

Lilith knits her brows a little bit and sits still a few moments before examining a fingernail as they get close to the Elm turnoff after some other through-town directions. It's a bit like she doesn't want to be looking out the window, just in case, but it's pissing down rain and thundering and any picketer would be insane to tough this out, "Anyway. Fuck that guy for making murder sacrifices right next to you. That was an utter shitshow of an evening. And fuck whoever ate my shrimp, too."

Danger aside, fuck-that-guy is about enough motivation for Lilith these days, she can feel it inside her like a storm. She is terrified of unwitting images that keep creeping on her, and she's... been almost delicate with Byron and his body when she touches him, playful ass grabs aside. She's certainly not apt to harm him with her own slight body, but the kid gloves are still subtly in place on principle sometimes. That and she is so guilty so much of the time for what she hasn't even done because sometimes she can't control what creeps as mind visuals or truths. Sometimes, she's starting to forget the way things really are, just a few seconds here and there, most of the time.

And if she's feeling guilt as a murderer would, how much does he hate her sometimes when the same problem happens to him in a victimized context?

"When we get there, we'll just go in the back office door, it's where I need to get to, regardless."

"Chief de la Vega doesn't like us snooping around like a pair of meddling kids." Byron says as he eases his vehicle through the slick, wet rain. "He's not very forthcoming with information which means, I'm pretty sure, that he doesn't really want us doing anything that might compromise his investigation. But you're right. There's been a lot of cases that he'd worked on that probably went nowhere due to the Veil or a Dream, someone's talents. Or ghost."

"It would've been cold anyway." He says about the shrimp, "Not that it would've gone to waste. And I'd be pretty pissed if it was Liu who stole your shrimp, but I don't think I saw him there that evening." Remembering something he'd brought up but never got the chance to finish, he murmurs, "Alexander Clayton offered to power dampen or nullify the casino lobby as a test on whether to see if we will still struggle against this second, false memory, or not. Or if the dampener is able shut those thoughts down altogether." Turning briefly to look on Lilith, he asks, "Are you willing to try that? I mean, who knows. Maybe it will stop people from believing that you're a murderer."

Driving along Elm, his eyes scan the streets before they come to the entrance of the parking area belonging to Harbor Mist. While there's no throng of picketers marching outside, he does notice a couple of people who had set up camp right there in the parking lot. At first, he's annoyed, but then by reading one of their signs, he feels this weirdness in his mind. "...shit." He murmurs under his breath.

Justice for Byron. That bit of strangeness must have been the second memory fighting to take prominence. He could see himself bleeding. He was bound uncomfortably, forcing him into a compact position, as he's sitting in... was this a steel drum. It was filled with water and he could feel himself choking beneath his gag. He remembers struggling to break free just as his world was filled with darkness once the lid was placed.

NO. Byron sees his death by water flash before his eyes as he's sitting behind the wheel of his car in a torrential storm. This is what they want you to remember. Fight it! But who wants you to remember this?? Blinking quickly, he proceeds to drive forward, passing the driveway altogether to park somewhere further. It might be a walk, but they've got a non-heated umbrella. Once the car is in park, he simply sits there for a half a minute, eyes turning to Lilith, wondering if she felt the same pull that he did. Did she read those signs? She must have.

"Want me to take care of them?"

"I'm kind of beyond giving much of a shit what he 'likes'. I'm a little miffed still, and it's not like he 'likes' much of anything anyway, so far as I can tell. It's not like he has some excuse to be any grumpier than the rest of us masochistic idiots that choose to live here. I also left the voicemail recording on purpose during the car chase and shootout before hanging up... so he could hear what was going on. I certainly did not get a call or text back or followup of any kind. Not only is that, you know, kind of an asshole move as Chief or whatever the hell he is, but it's kind of the humanely considerate thing to do given the content of what must have been left on voicemail and the aftermath."

Lilith's anxiety is flaring up the further they go along Elm, degenerating into a new 'fuck that guy' angle of opinionated and blunt prattle on to Byron. She's distracted by his question, though, before she goes getting too grumpy on principle. Initially, she starts to slowly nod, considering aloud, "... it probably wouldn't hurt to try, but why... the casino lobby and not the..."

Uh oh. The brunette woman has stopped talking dead in the middle of her sentence, there's no trail off, she just stops and holds her breath extremely deeply. On top of passing the crazy Justice Warriors for a man who's not even dead, Lilith sees the back dumpster from where they park considering they're going in the back office entrance and it almost dangerously tips her into terrible images of Byron missing limbs, rotting in there, who's driving her now? Why did she do it? Why would she ever do that to him and defile him so? What could he possibly do for such treatment from her, what happened to her to make her do it? It's just not in her after so much suffering to nightmares of hurting him for years.

Lilith loses some of her coloring and stares out of the window at the dumpster after turning a pointed look away from the picketers pointing through the rain their way. And while they are going to have to walk through the rain, it won't muffle what's being shouted at them on the way as a distant rally and riot call. But after preparing herself to get out of the car in a hurry so they can just get inside and do what she needs to do, her head shakes vehemently, voice shaking some, "No. Let's just go in. I shouldn't even..." She practically jumps out of the car because finishing that sentence and train of thought is just too hard while she's trying to remember solidly what is and what isn't.

And on the way in, those words chasing them through the rain to the back door are nasty, "MURDEROUS WHORE! YOU'LL ROT IN PRISON! JUSTICE FOR BYRON THORNE!"

Byron's not going to defend Ruiz any more than what he'd already said. He knows that it's part of the job, but it's hard to help a guy who isn't forthcoming with information in exchange.

Once they are parked, however, he'll remain seated there until Lilith is ready to face the world. Then, he'll brandish his umbrella and help to walk her out, circling the car to meet her on the passenger side, before the pair of them cross the puddle laden street. Elm is not the best street to be on when it comes to heavy rain. It tends to flood easily.

For Byron, the trash bin doesn't trigger him the way it does with Lilith. The chanting does. MURDEROUS WHORE! Instead of the chill of being drenched by a cascade of rain, he can see himself tied to the bed, BDSM style with Lilith straddling over his naked form. He feels a splotch of something dripping down against his cheek. Then another on his shoulder. Then against his chest. Rather that the cold rain, it was scalding hot. At first, he thought it was candle wax, then boiling water. Which it very well could be. Or acid. He's not sure, but he's in a world of pain as she douses him in the burning liquid.

Fuck me. It's a fleeting image, one that, while it's disturbing in content, is something that he will firmly shake out of his head. "She. Is. NOT. A. Murderous. Whore." The businessman's words come out slow and firmly, filled with venom. She hadn't answered his question, but he will flood their minds with pain, like their flesh was burning from the rain. Very well like the way a version of him was killed in who knows what the fuck alternate universe.

Lilith doesn't notice Byron exerting, she's in haul ass fashion under the umbrella with quick strides next to the man, practically grinding her teeth to try and keep focused on the keys in her hands. It's odd having one reality next to you and another in the mind pushing and trying to come out to make you believe terrible wicked things. In fact, she almost feels woozy with the split reaction and feels a bit of pain in her head that jars her back to some semblance of functioning nature. She'd been fumbling with the keys to the back door, but finally, she gets the right one in hand to turn both locks.

She doesn't notice the man next to her exerting to make the two picketing Justice Warriors suffer, but she hears that tone in his voice on her behalf and it brings her the rest of the way back to reality and what's actual by a skimming thread. In fact, as the door handle turns, she takes in a breath as if to say something, but then his furious mental torture of the two outside kicks in and it jolts her straight into spooked state, simply because she wasn't expecting sudden screeches of terror and pain. She doesn't hang around outside in the rain to try and figure it out, she just gets inside the warm and dry office with Byron and closes the door hard.

Breathing hard and swallowing thickly, Lilith is a bit unfocused and wild-eyed with distraction, but she goes right to a locked drawer in her desk to get out a bag all the same, dying to let some of her own powerlash out, she can feel things stirring around inside her, and though what she's about to do isn't breaking, it might be enough to get her nerves right again, "... did you...?"

She starts to lay out the metal frame pieces she has of the console from the bag, onto the desk then and leans with her palms flat against the surface to look down at what she's starting to do.

The firm statement that he made out of anger was also something spoken aloud to help Byron to believe his own words. It was his way to fight off the second memory and chase away the horrible images that it conjured up. The man can only hope that this taste of pain is enough to send them away. They could run madly into traffic for all he cared, but as long as they were away from here. There's no reaction on his part to the panicked screeching coming from the picketers at the front of the store, yet he remains tensed and annoyed even once the door to the office is finally open, but he's more than happy to get in out of the rain. Every droplet that splashes against his skin only reminds him of...

They weren't entirely cut off from the commotion happening outside, but at least it was painful screams instead of angry words that might trigger either of them again.

Did he...? He sure as hell did.

"I was hoping that it would make them go away. Maybe in time, to make the rain stop feeling like acid against their skin." He almost regrets uttering those words, because he could feel the burn eating away at his flesh as well now. It was not real, he keeps telling himself.

Watching what's left of the PS4 laid out on the desk, he continues the conversation they'd left off on, though his eyes are on Lilith, picking up on that wild look within them. "Why the lobby? It's a test to see if we can turn off whatever is making people believe in these false realities. And also to see if it will help temper down the unease that we feel when the false memories try to claw its way into our consciousness, forcing us to believe in it." Since this isn't set in stone as of yet, he asks, "Where would you suggest?"

Gradually, plastic starts to blossom in movement and growth along the frame of the console remains while Lilith slams power into the metal. It's pretty quick, all told, but there's a fluidity and liquid motion to it all, as if she's summoning and solidifying matter into the right components to fill invisible mapping of what the object should be. While the casing forms, the inside chips and components start to pop up and snap completion like a magical jigsaw puzzle just as the casing closes. Suddenly, there's a whole PS4 there where frame and pieces were just moments before.

It helps. Then Lilith hears Byron's answer with small delay given her focus on what she was doing. Initially, she starts to slant her pretty lips with fond smile for his nasty spite for the pair outside, oddly charmed by the very reactionary violence of it by the look of her. Then she seems to have a realization of some kind and swallows thickly, quickly looking down to think on his question instead of speaking on what's subtly eating her all of a sudden. Her hands stroke over the console machine before she pulls a box out to shape and start taping and filling with newspaper to pack the console for package delivery. Hell if they're hand delivering it again, she's putting it out with the online pawn packages tonight in pickup.

"Does it have to just be one place? I see what you're saying now and that's clever. I-I think we might need a safe room at home too. Because if you're struggling like I'm struggling..."

The brunette woman goes silent for a moment before stopping what she's doing to look at Byron with big, sober blue eyes.

"... is that one of the ways you see me kill you?" Her quiet words pause before she tacks on another inquiry with hesitance, "... does it make you hate me when you believe it a little?"

Watching something being repaired through use of the mending Talent was truly magical. It was almost like watching a video in reverse, but rather than this being a dramatic action scene replaying right before his eyes with some explosion, all of the dings and melted plastic just starts to spread or bend or whatever it needs to do to form a complete object. Slowly shaking his head, he just has to comment, "This never grows old." Nevermind that it's still a use of her powers, something which is a danger to her, but it was still fascinating all the same.

"No. It doesn't have to be in just one place. I can set one up at home. The casino lobby is just a test to see what we can prevent from happening." He's hovering nearby, one hand in his pocket with his eyes on the newly repaired console. Though he eventually catches Lilith's bright blues staring at him, hearing her brutal question. "No." He lies, "You don't need acid to kill me." Which is true. It's odd that some of these methods are very un-Lilith-like at all. The burning? Well, that one's possible. Being sawed through by a Band Saw? Locked in a container to drown? That was very un-Lilith-like. The acid, however? Despite the odd kink of the scenario, being bound naked to his bed, that wasn't like her either. Was it?

"I don't believe it. I try my best to fight it, failing that..." He only really had one incident so far where he began to truly believe that he was being murdered by her. Reaching out with his free hand to brush against his cheek, he says quietly, "I don't know what we have to do, but we'll find a way to stop all of this."

"Maybe... the mark will keep fading on its own..." Lilith says after a deep breath once Byron has answered, her mascara-darkened veil of lashes dropping with brief vulnerability. The burn sears had healed, but the ovular marks were still there and if they're fading, it's certainly not been anything progressive lately, "I'm just afraid. When I believed you were dead, it was so real, I... could have hurt myself had it gone on much longer. If you get to where you truly believe it... I don't think I have it in me to fight back, Byron."

Lilith has to pause for a moment while Byron brushes his hand against her cheek, sounding uncertain given the images worming her brain. Most of the ways she sees the man dead at her hands look like crimes of quick passion rather than torturous methods. They're still gory and horrible scenarios, though. Breathing out a sigh of resignation, her voice drops lower, "I just don't want things to get worse." Finally, her eyes lift back up to meet with his dark ones, weight shifting from hip to hip as she stands, clearly stuck between a rock and a hard place as to what to do to prevent damages they... can't undo.

The hand with her engagement ring reaches out to press with caressing pressure against Byron's chest and Lilith looks at the ring, "I thought about maybe staying here a while. To be safe and protect you. I don't... want that, though. I think if we could have a safe space somewhere at home, it'd... make me feel better." After blinking twice, ".... unless you think it's better we play separate safe. But there's dangers in that, too. It might be harder to... fight off if we don't... have each other. How long will the place we pick stay safe? And how much effort does it take?"

It just so happens that the hand that's brushing against Lilith's face is his marked hand, so he doesn't have the opportunity to look to see whether the mark on his palm was fading unless he withdrew. That's not what really interests him, however, seeing the glisten of unshed tears in Lilith's eyes was what interested Byron. And then when she tells him that that she doesn't have it in her to fight back. What... what kind of man did she think he was? This was because of Valentine's Day wasn't it? Rather than defend himself with words, he lets her statement stand, though his gaze breaks away from hers to lower.

He'll keep his attention diverted for a time, but eventually, his gaze will return to Lilith, just in time to meet up with her own gaze once more. His mind keeps wondering what exactly did she kno-- think that she knew about him. That was the most troubling thing at the moment. Not these triggers or even what will happen with that damned PS4 now.

"I'm not sure how long that it lasts. I think, I heard Hyacinth Addington say twenty-four hours?" Despite what's going on his head, he retains a calm-enough tone. "And no. I'd rather you stay with me at home. If anything happens, I want to be there for you." His brows lift as he considers her last question, "As for how much effort it takes. This entire thing is a new development for me, so I have no idea. I only used it once against the Eye, so it's effective enough." He wets his lips, the hand at her cheek finally withdrawing to press against the back of her own hand, the one at his chest. "If you're worried that it might attract Their attention. Probably. But what can They do in a void?" He has no idea really, but he felt he was ending on a lighter note.

"Alright. I guess it... makes sense and is certainly something to try both ways. If it starts to attract too much attention, though, from the wrong direction to maintain it, it's... probably not worth the trouble in the long run. But you make a good couple of points, and having the peace of mind would be nice if it works. So we will... see how it goes, okay?" Lilith looks at Byron's hand shifted to rest against hers at his chest and sighs quietly to herself, "I just know... the panic and vivid belief and grief when it happened the night you were gone... I'm not sure I had a chance to control what I was feeling or thinking."

"So if I'm having that as the 'killer' in these scenarios, I can only... imagine what you might feel as a victim when it creeps up. I'm sorry." The woman has no idea why she's even apologizing, in truth, it just comes out of her as if she's somehow responsible despite not killing him even a little! Then after lifting her blue eyes to his dark ones, seriously, she needlessly amends her prior safety idea too, "Separating for safety was a stupid idea. I'm pretty sure... I can't do any of this without you and the odds of me actually having a dangerous accident with you are quite low."

There's a brief pause before she tacks on, damn any pride about it, "Hell, I wait for you to come home like a little puppy lately when you go, what would I do with a whole loft to anxious around in alone, at that?"

After pressing her prettied-up lips into a momentary flat line, Lilith leans in to press a brushing kiss, then another over the back knuckles of his resting hand on hers, "Thank you for telling inbreeds I'm not a murderous whore and briefly torturing them." She sounds so sweet and genuine when she says it, it really doesn't dawn on her that this probably isn't something sweet she should be condoning. She is genuinely touched by the lash out reaction of defense, in that kind of screwy Lilith way of hers, sometimes it might not matter what Byron does in a situation... she might still be looking at him with adoring stars in her eyes anyway 'cause like she tells him with so many kisses, he's her eternal knight.

"I'll finish packing this and put it with the other outgoing and text Abitha to let her know about the machine. My hopes aren't real high, despite what it looks like, as far as data storage, but... maybe she can do something. Who knows, I did my part pretty enough, didn't I? Do you... want to try and eat out after this? I hate to just go back home because of people."

Byron's not going to argue when Lilith sounds concerned over this new power of his. /He/ isn't quite comfortable with it, himself, only having used it once in his life and that was out of an urgent necessity. "We'll test it out and see how it works. Alexander doesn't like how it feels at all. It's too quiet. Maybe it won't affect those who aren't readers like us much, being unable to sense the electricity in the air, feel people's emotions."

Not being comfortable when Lilith reminds him of what he experiences when he's triggered by bringing up her own experiences, because he's doing his best to keep those thoughts out of his mind in order to convince his brain that they never happened. He's not 100% of what triggers him, but he's getting a sense that he has episodes more often than not when in public than in private. "I've yet to feel the pull of that reality as strongly as you. I feel /something/, like a little nagging sensation sometimes." Almost constantly at some points when he's out and about. "But it's usually something I can brush off." He's been very lucky in that regard.

Despite being semi-alarmed that she would even think that he'd hurt her, Byron affords her an easy smile when she thanks him for making those picketers suffer. Though the smile slowly fades, his tone sounding serious, "It really pisses me off to hear them talking shit like that about you. You don't need to hear it."

But it looks like their business here is done. "Do you need me to do anything? To help close up?" He's not even sure what they'll find on the system, even if he's curious about it. Though Lilith wanting to eat out has him cautious. It made him uneasy for some reason, maybe because he's left the penthouse to head to the very busy casino and around town sometimes, so he knows what it's like and the triggers that sometimes come with it.

However, Lilith barely left the apartment and the least he could do was give her this moment to breathe and stretch her legs. So despite his better judgement, that smile returns. "I could go for a bite, sure. Anything in particular that you're craving?"

"No. Quiet doesn't sound bad, especially when my head is... too full to give me quiet in any way, shape, or form. I don't think that will be a problem for me, comparative to what's going on to prompt the precaution." Lilith murmurs with brief consideration and a tiny shake of her head, keeping her lips in against his knuckles while he tries to explain how he's largely been able to fight off his own... feelings and memories associated with death-by-Lilith. After a moment of listening, she gradually exhales a soft puff of tickling sigh at his skin and straightens to finish packing and taping up the box with the repaired console nearby.

She's glad he's able to brush it off, she is. But it makes her feel unstable and weak too, knowing what her own memory-demon did, full and proper belief and grief and near hysteric panic to go with her confusion at that time. Honestly, she's kind of glad in a way he wasn't home to see her like that, but... maybe it wouldn't have escalated like that either, she's not sure. Lilith isn't sure about much these days, in truth. Even the sacred, safe, and good things between them are starting to break down with unwitting paranoias or emotions, so much crippling fear about what could happen. They made it so goddamn personal this time.

Rage stirs in Lilith's chest and suddenly, while watching Byron, then the door, the woman's lashes drop before she can even start brainstorming on the idea.

"Barnes is here it's fine. Nothing sounds good, really... and I'm not sure I can handle more nonsense from people." There's a pause, "It's okay, babe. Let's just go home."