2020-10-13 - Tattoo Talk

It's an odd thing to ring up one your tenants and let him know that you're coming over and when you do, you bring all your friends and their dates. At the very least, Byron Thorne will let Joseph Cavanaugh know that he had some friends who were interested in speaking to the man, probably rattling off some names like Alexander's. He might not come out and say what the topic of the day would be, probably because it would be a terribly long story and something best uttered in person.

At the appointed time, Byron waits for these friends to meet him in the lobby before going back up to the third floor to meet with the former astronaut. The doorbell is rung.

His friends and their dates. If Isabella had known, she'd probably be laughing.

She's not laughing at the moment though when she emerges through the double-doors with Alexander, clad in her typical summer wear. She hardly ever dresses up unless it's for a function, so it's not surprising that her sunkissed figure emerges in a pair of white shorts, a tanktop and her ever-present Oxford hoodie tied around the waist, and her aviators perched on the chocolate mass her hair has been twisted in. Her moonstone pendant glitters against the dark fabric of her top, just underneath her exposed clavicle, and her dandelion charm bracelet on her left wrist.

"Hey, B," she greets. "Uh, he knows we're all coming to see him, yeah? And that we didn't bring our own booze?" There's mischief on the line of her mouth; she's probably just joking. Probably.

It sounds ominous and strange....but isn't that life in Gray Harbor? Joe's apartment is a big one bedroom, with all the space that isn't that bedroom or the bathrooms one large open area. A kitchen at the end nearest the front door, divided from the dining/living area by a granite countertop. A long, plain dining table, then couches and a coffee table aimed at the TV on the wall. There's a roll up desk tucked off to one side....and the walls are lined with bookshelves. Those bookshelves, in turn, are nearly groaning under their burden. He surely didn't bring all those books in that little sailboat - must've had them shipped to him. Little to betray his old career, save for some of the odd little bits of memorabilia here and there on the shelves, or even the kitchen counter. Turns out there's such a thing as a cookie jar in the shape of an Apollo command module, and he owns one.

The man himself is in dark jeans and t-shirt, battered Converse sneakers, and his usual browline glasses. He opens the door and blinks, mildly, at the gathering. Apparently this way more of a party than he anticipated. But he ventures a smile and steps back, ushering them in. "Hey, y'all," he says. "C'mon in."

Who didn't bring their own booze? Lilith has a bottle of wine in hand! Granted, it's not for her, it's a gift for the sudden barge on Joe's home and general housekeeping courtesy. It's a really nice cabernet, though. Not too fancy, not too bottom line, and the label is pretty cool and artsy, something from an independent semi-boujee winery in Napa. She smiles some at the man of the house when they're invited in and taps her finger against the bottle before using it as an excuse to walk into the kitchen and look around on the way, "I'll put this on the counter, unless you have a rack somewhere."

Today, Lilith is wearing casual distressed jeans and cute lift-wedge laced boots with a vivid indigo v-neck shirt, hair in air dried wave and free tousle. She's openly assessing the space and comparing while ambling through, that nosiness is rather unapologetic casual. But it's fun for her to compare too, nosiness about what an astronaut stows in his rockethouse put aside. The penthouse has a pretty open concept plan too, but their use of space is far more comfort-decor related than efficient storage space. In fact, she downright whistles low through her teeth once she's turned to get a full scope of the books.

"It's neat to see layouts I see in model apartments, then what people do with them to personalize. I should just go door to door one day and compare."

Byron is dressed casually today as well, having had the time to shower and change after work. Dressed in a black and grey two-toned sweater with a dark brown trim cutting a line across his chest to separate the two hues, his legs are covered in casual fit jeans while he wears comfortable sneakers on his feet. "Lilith," He asides to Isabella when she asks about the booze, "came bearing gifts. But if you really need a drink, Izzy, and if Cavanaugh has none too offer, then we can always order in."

Once the door is opened, he graces Joseph with a friendly smile as they are let in. "Now, this is going to sound crazy, but hear me out." That's what Thorne starts with as Lilith sets the bottle of wine on some counter. "First of all, you haven't been plagued by any white crows, have you? You'll know the ones because they'll keep calling out the name of someone who you have strong ties to, either for good or bad. Like some sort of trigger."

He, himself, just gives the place an idle look over. Of course, as the landlord, he enjoys seeing the personal space of his tenants and to see how they are maintaining the apartment. Lilith's wanting to go door to door, however, has him laughing "I mean, I'm sure that I could accommodate that, but there are several guests who I'm sure prefer their privacy." These apartments were rented out to the wealthy after all. Sometimes the eccentric and grumpy wealthy.

Alexander is hanging in the back of the group, just behind Isabella, dressed shabby casual as he usually is. He's less discreet about his curiosity than either Lilith or Byron, just staring openly at the decor, and pacing restlessly at the back of the group. His hand slips out to brush against Isabella's arm on occasion, and he murmurs, with an apologetic grimace to Joe, "Sorry for descending upon you. Hope it's all right."

Lilith does come bearing gifts, and the archaeologist can't help but inspect the label, grinning faintly at the brunette and with a quick wink cast in her direction; unfailingly fashionable as always. Honestly, she doesn't know how the Winslow woman does it day-in and out.

The brush on her arm gets a glance from Alexander, followed by a smile and the brushing press of lips constantly attentive of him, resting and lingering on the high arch of his nearest cheekbone. With Joe welcoming the rest within, Isabella wiggles her fingers at the ex-navy man. "Hey Joe, long time, no see." But she falls quiet when Byron takes the lead in asking questions, a curious light in those green-and-gold eyes.

The books cover a wide range of subjects: space and science, of course, but also fiction all over the map. Plenty of SF and fantasy, nature, cooking, poetry, history, leatherbound classics - even titles in what can only be Russian and Japanese. Atop one shelf is what can only be a Lego model of the ISS, complete with docked Soyuz. There are other oddities, including a set of little figurines of dogs in space suits, painted in the blue and white of Russian porcelain, lined up across the front of a shelf.

The stemless wineglasses he pulls from a cabinet even have constellations picked out on them in gold. "I've other wines, if y'all want 'em," he says, even as he fishes a corkscrew from a kitchen drawer, "Beer, cider, vodka, whiskey, and tequila." Three guesses who that last is for.

Byron's question has Joe blinking at him, pausing in the act of uncorking the wine. "Ahhh, no," he says, but his tone is even. "Not that I recall....an' I think I'd remember that encounter." Lilith gets a grin. He's definitely eccentric, but not grumpy. The smile he directs at Alexander is more welcoming. "No trouble at all," he agrees. And indeed, he doesn't seem dismayed about being bearded in his den, as it were. "Heya, Isabella," he says, pleasantly. Then that blue gaze darts from one to another. "I take it y'all're all involved in this thing with the white crows. Why ask me, if you don't mind me askin'?"

"Well. Others can probably explain it better, but where's your anchor tattoo? Can we see it?" Lilith asks of Joseph after listening to him reply with a pensive, subtle tilt of her dark head. She hangs out in the area with the drinks where she dropped the wine bottle, ready to take the glasses Joseph pours for delivery as others settle to talk. The woman is apparently quite used to playing hostess these days, though honestly, Byron does it more often than not when there's guests and drinks to be had.

Once she's asked the question, her eyes start scanning the visible expanse of Joe's arms while he's nearby, apparently looking for a specific place or marking to seize on for study. Really, considering he isn't quite sure what they're on about, it might be a vaguely ominous kind of question. After a look over at Byron, though, she's certainly going to let him explain in more length.

After Lilith ask about the anchor, Byron is quick to state, "Before you do that, will you allow me to project an image for you to see? An illusion? Just so I can show you something in the hopes that it's a match. What Lilith brings up is something I saw in... a Dream." The businessman has to shake his head once that is said, "Actually, it was a memory of sorts. I was reading a white crow feather when I took on some memory of the crow, supposedly. Anyway, I was shown several symbols which I'd assumed were there to inform me of what to look for if I needed help finding," And here he clears his throat, "An old crone. The one with the stones with these symbols on it. She said if I ever needed to locate her again, there are those who could help." Here, he pauses, "Which is why we're here right now." He then repeats his request, "May I?" Cast the illusion. He figures everyone else in the room has seen it, but he can project to them too. Well four people in total or something. Who knows!

Alexander finally comes to rest, near Isabella, smiling at the gentle kiss, and returning it with a caress of her hair - although as Byron comes to the point of ambushing poor Joe en masse, he straightens his back and watches the astronaut with keen interest. The offer of the drink, though, is responded to with a shake of his head and a murmured, "Thanks, but I'm good." A deeper smile crinkles the corner of his eyes as Joe looks at him. "No trouble yet," he responds. "There will always be trouble. It's just not here just yet." A curious look back at Byron at the offer of projecting. "It's interesting," he says, abruptly. "You put things out in the room. Not inside people's heads. Even though it is inside people's heads. It's interesting."

There's no need to look hard - it's clearly visible on his right forearm, done in stark red, black, and blue, in that old-fashioned sailor style: an anchor wound with a frayed rope. He displays it with a lift of his arm, which also reveals the long scar on the underside, still a vivid pink.

Byron's question makes him pause again, thoughtful and silent, for a few beats. For someone who can come off as the consummate barfly, he's also capable of startling reserve. "The crows I hadn't heard of, I don't think. But I have the stone with my anchor on it. A young lady I knew was in a dream with the crone you speak of, Baba Yaga." He gives it the Russian pronunciation, the stresses on the second syllable. "She got it, and she came to find me after...but if you want to show me, too, sure, you c'n do so."

Alexander's comments earn him a wry tilt of the head. "No boom today. Boom tomorrow. There's always a boom tomorrow," he quotes, gnomically. Then he's turning for the bookshelves. From one of them, he pulls a small box - black lacquer, painted brightly with some scene from a Russian fairy tale: a firebird curls over a young man on a horse. He sets it down on the counter, and opens it. Inside, there's a stone with the image of the fouled anchor on it . He doesn't lift it out or touch it, but looks up at them expectantly.

Lilith eyes the man's arm a beat, then brings a trio of glasses out, first a pair for Byron and Isabella, then she returns to amble around with one for herself, eventually ended up by her fiancé to have a seat nearby and settle in with a sip of her wine. She has a way of moving the apartment's space and making it so that Joe doesn't have to play host too hard while being inundated with company and some possibly disturbing information linking him with their own problematic issues. She's unabashed and casual about it all, despite the fact she's never been in the apartment or talked to the man personally beyond greetings... exactly once.

She's seen the imagery that Byron mentally projects a couple times, in truth, but it doesn't stop the woman from looking again at length when these things are displayed for Joseph to digest and remind the others attending what they've seen too. The images aren't seared with her quite the same way, so she takes time to study and try to imprint more details while she has them in front of her, visibly mulling while she watches Joe go for the box. Sipping from her glass and leaning forward then, she turns her hand over to the faint outline scar of an oval outline in the palm that is about the size of the stone he comes to display, "... woah, you have the actual stone?"

"But, functionally, it's the same--" Alexander starts to argue, but he shuts up when Byron makes with the projecting. While something about it seems to spark his stubborn streak, he doesn't interrupt the man while he's projecting. His eyes move from the images, to the stone that Joseph reveals. Like Lilith, he seems surprised. And also, instantly suspicious. "...why? What is the point of it all? What sort of game is someone, this 'Baba Yaga' or the Beast or someone trying to play here?" He paces around the images and the stone, looking from one to the other like they might suddenly speak to them.

Then again...his eyes go to the stone. "I could read it. Try."

The sailor's long face is somber, as Byron casts that illusion. "Her name here was Roxy. She was a dancer. Originally from Finland. She and I were in the Asylum together for a while - she was very kind to me. Her family had sent her there, and they were pursuing her even after she got out. She left here because they were getting too close again," he specifies, quietly. "I've lost touch with her. But....she was present in that dream, as were Rosencrantz and de la Vega. She said that she felt drawn to the one with the image of the tree with roots of crystal. That the Baba offered them wishes, but those that accepted had their wishes twisted. She wished that they had no wishes....and a storm arose and pelted them all with stones. She had bruises from it...she also said that de la Vega and Rosencrantz were present, too, of those I knew."

Then he picks up the glass of wine, takes a sip. Each one has a subtly different pattern - winter and summer, northern and southern hemisphere. He has summer in the southern hemisphere in his hand, and glances down at it, tracing the Southern Cross with a thumbnail, absentmindedly. "I gave her a book of Russian fairy tales - lots of stories about the Baba in it. I figured it was as close to good advice as I could give her."

At Alexander's question, he looks up again, hastily. "In the stories, anyhow, she's not always a villain. Sometimes she's the harsh teacher who rewards the clever student. But how close what we have in this Dream is to the figure in the stories, I don't know. If you want to try it, you can."

Byron and Alexander can argue on these illusions on another day! It may very well come up. For now, the entrepreneur is invested in Joseph's story. "Roxy. I've seen her around town. Not lately, but... I guess that's the reason." He leaves the holographic image up for a while longer, dark eyes settled on the image of the tree with roots of crystals. "That checks that symbol off our list. Rosencrantz and de la Vega too?" With these new names in mind, he's studying each of the other symbols more carefully. Trying to match either of those two with any of the symbols. "The others? They didn't have a symbol that called out to them?" Then it dawns on him, "Unless, those represented by these symbols were all in the Asylum at one point? Both you and this Roxy?"

Since he's prolonging leaving this image up for them to scrutinize and the like, an idle gaze looks over at Alexander when he suggests that he read the stone. "Be my guest. Reading that crow's feather is what brought us here in the first place."

Lilith looks at Alexander quite warily when he offers to read the stone, listening to the others talk with no real pipe in with opinions or information during the discussion and sharing. Instead, she crosses one leg over the other and studies her glass to try and figure which pattern it may represent, though there is a moment where she looks at Joe more closely once he's mentioned the Asylum and being a patient there. In fact, once he's mentioned there's a stripper involved tangentially with these symbols, she looks a little relieved-- she didn't want to be the rose of mention, even though it's her middle name.

It's a matter of principle, really, given the way Isabella translated the meaning of the eye in the center, no one wants their self-esteems or lack thereof in places laid out like that for others. Like Byron, though, most of her focus turns inward to consider the new involved names and the representative symbols, as well as what this Baba Yaga could represent in the whole scheme of things. Her free hand gets out her phone to absently start googling a few things, then she looks at the stone carefully to see if it's any KIND of stone like hers and Byron's were different in a Dream.

"We picked up stones in a Dream to get our ah... names back and it twisted our memories to some degrees, like it came with a taint. But when the Revisionist adjusted our 'current situation' it went away, thankfully." There's a pause here before she adds thickly, "It was highly unpleasant."

"I remember her," Alexander says, quietly. "I saw her dance, once, at the strip club. She had the most cleverly engineered outfit. She actually sewed it herself. I asked her about it. She was nice. Quiet. I hope she's okay," he says with a faint frown. He listens to the mention of previous encounters, and snorts. "Doesn't sound very benevolent. Giving people wishes and twisting them, AND punishing people for not wishing at all. Sounds petty and vicious."

Which is probably just the sort of mindset he wants to be having when he reaches for the stone. Technically, he doesn't HAVE to touch things, but it makes him feel...more grounded, somehow, to do so. So he lays a finger on the top of it, tracing the symbol, and closes his eyes as he opens his mind to it.

Alexander shivers visibly as the vision plays out for him, and at one point, his hand twitches, but doesn't quite release contact from the stone. Another breath or two, and its over, his eyes open, and he moves his fingers from the stone to one of his temples, rubbing there thoughtfully. "I saw it. Part of your dream, I think. I saw it. Backwards, oddly enough." He shakes his head, to clear it, then sucks in a breath. "Except, she saw me. She spoke to me. She showed me a stone. A stork with four eyes, with a ribbon, and butterfly wings. I think that one was meant for me."

"Yeah, I hope Roxy's doin' all right, too. And wasn't mine, that Dream," His accent's thick enough to spread on toast, down at the lower end of its spectrum. A far cry from the usual crisp engineer's voice he usually uses when confronted with a puzzle or a problem. "But yeah. Wonder what she is to those who Shine. 'nother figure like....those runnin' the Asylum? 'cause Rosencrantz an' de la Vega weren't.....well, they weren't patients. But they did visit," Joe's musing aloud, sipping from that wine glass, leaning a little on the counter with one hand, fingers curled under so 'HOLD' is visible. That the witch knows who he is, means this for him, means it well enough that it's solid in this world, doesn't seem to perturb him terribly.

Though Lilith might not bring up this concern that she may have been the rose, Byron's sets a hand on her shoulder anyway, giving it a comforting squeeze. It's then that the illusion disappears completely, the stones and the symbols upon them fading from view. By now, they should have gotten a good enough look at those symbols. When Alexander reads the stone, Byron remains quiet, simply watching the man to gauge his reaction to what he sees. When Byron had read that feather, it took him on an adventure. Or that's what it felt like.

Clayton is then back and while Thorne's gaze lingers on Alexander for a moment longer, listening to what he has to say, he can't help but give the stone with the anchor another look. "When I read the feather, it was as if I were seeing the world through the crow's eyes. I couldn't communicate through it, nor could the crone hear me when I tried to talk. However, she /knew/ that I was there. Called me out by name." His gaze pulls away from the stone for one final time. "It's almost as if she knew that I would read the feather. Forseen it somehow and implanted that memory into that feather for me to read."

Looking to Joseph, there's this thoughtful look on his features, "Were they dragged into this Dream after they visited the Asylum?" Then almost as an afterthought, he decides to bring up, "Anyway, one of the main reasons why I'm looking into this now... despite having had that vision a while ago. Some time last year, it's because Lilith and I had our names stolen. We could not remember who we were, what our names were. Our own names, we had an idea who the other was. We encounters a pool, found these rocks that held our name, our identity, and retrieved them. Not without consequences. Since these crows have something to do with the pool and the Eye where the stones with stolen names are found, I thought it might be a good idea to look further into this."

"Yeah. We thought we had to resolve it to make our dual memories that were triggering us... I mean, I thought it would be the way to make it stop, but that seems to have resolved with other twists of circumstance, thank goodness." Lilith says after a time of just watching Alexander touch at the stone with a general wariness to her fine features, giving her a rather skeptical little dollface. Mentalists, man. For someone that can handle bringing a lot of blood in a fight, she doesn't seem to at all like the idea of reading things the way they do with emotional leanings or vivid imagery to feel.

But alas, different strokes, she doesn't say a thing to interrupt, she just watches. While seated, she stops fiddling with her phone and eyeing her glass when she feels the touch of Byron's hand squeezing on her shoulder, and her body angles some his way with subtle leaning. On posing her next related bit, she looks around to see if her non-detailed details jog anything in the others.

"I wonder if others are seeing the uh. Other things you saw that I didn't see while we were at the Eye, Byron. The thing with no head and uh... what, a mutated crow thing?"

Alexander shakes his head at Joe. "I don't think so. Those seem to be '-ists', empowered by the '-ors'. This creature seems to be something other. But who knows? Maybe the rules aren't that unforgiving." Byron gets a bewildered look. "How odd. No, this was...backwards. I don't think I was supposed to see it. She tried to smack my hand, because the stone wasn't for me." Speaking of, he closes the books and slides it a little away from him. Just in case.

He goes back to pacing, watching them. "I haven't had any visions of any of this. Not since the last with the crow corpse."

Joe nods at that, thoughtfully. "I think they did," he says. "Yeah. I know Rosencrantz and de la Vega did visit the Asylum 'fore I showed up in town. If that's related....couldn't say." He shrugs, lazily. "Might be she did. Time might be as flexible as other things there."

Lilith's description of those other things sounds horrific, and the sailor's mouth twists a little. "I can't read objects," he confesses. "She wants to talk to me, she's gonna have to get ahold of me directly." Like she's just going to text him, or call him on the phone. "No visions, no encounters with crows. What's the first time y'all know of that one of these crow things has shown up?"

"So do these stones represent everyone who was in that... Dream?" That would make sense if Joseph were in the Dream too! Thus, Byron sounds hesitant when asking this. "I mean, right now, since Lilith and I have our names back /and/ the false memory in our heads is now gone, I'd say we have no further incentive to dig into this further. But I don't know what else is going to plague us that's connected to the crone and the crows. And the Eye." He makes sure to bring that part up too.

"As for when this all started happening, I /think/ it was the day that we visited Clayton in the hospital and there was a crow tapping at the window, calling out..." This is what makes Byron uneasy, remembering just how he felt on hearing the name the crow uttered. "Calling out names of people in our past. Names that the crow, or something knew, would trigger us. We thought it wanted inside and believed it to be dangerous. It was then dispatched with which is how I got one of its feathers and Alexander got the corpse." He then goes on to say, his dark brows lifted, "When my mind was piggybacking on this crow, it took me back to the hospital where it desperately tapped on the window." He doesn't want to admit this nor does he understand what it means, but he does. "It was asking for help. Or that's the impression that I got during the read."

Lilith kind of twists her lips a bit to the side and looks in the opposite direction away from Byron while he's explaining in answer to Joseph's question, then takes a huge drink from her wine glass, not quite draining the contents, but almost. After a moment of thick pause when the man is finished speaking, she rubs a hand at her knee and recalls, "I killed it. I thought it was trying to get in and it was upsetting everyone with whatever it was tapping against the window with morse code, so I broke it and it fell. Byron got the feathers from outside when we left the hospital."

She doesn't sound remorseful about this, just pretty matter of fact about the violence she doled out on the creature. But there's a reason her hand is slowly rubbing and fidgeting against some of the stylized distressing on her pair of jeans while she's seated with crossed legs. After a moment's pause, she explains a bit further with her voice a touch quieter, "Killing it wasn't without consequences. When it happened, it lashed back at me and... made me see and believe it was plucking out my eye while I was prone. I don't know if that's how it got a hold of our names or if it ever even really had them at all. It's hard to know what to believe when it comes to these things."

Then the woman does drain her glass, "I just know I don't want to see those bastards again, nor do I want another Dream where I'm leading Byron in shackles to slavery or death."

"Why would I have a stone?" Alexander asks, with a frown. "I wasn't in any of the Dreams related to this - I did see a crow, and read the corpse, but that's it." He shakes his head to Joseph. "Months ago, for me. It was just brief, a single encounter. And then, when I was in the hospital, and people," a nod to Byron and Lilith, "came to visit, a crow tried to break in, using people's names against us. But I know people were seeing them before that."

"Shoot first, ask questions later, huh?" Joe's tone isn't particular censorious, just matter of fact. But then, he is involved with de la Vega. He's nodding along, and finally settles himself hipshot on one of the stools that's edged up to the counter. Like his joints are giving him grief, again.

He looks down into the depths of the wine, as if he'd divine something there, then looks up. "Sorry to say, I 'spect you won't get that wish. If it's somethin' tryin'a pass us a message or ask for our help, it'll keep comin' if it can. Sounds like it's someone on the other side wants our attention. Can't imagine but it just needs those who shine. I wonder what the Baba's link with those crows are. White crows....only myths I 'member hearing of them in were Celtic and Welsh, maybe Norse." He nods at Alexander. "You wanna try readin' it again while I'm holdin' it? Think that'd make a difference?"

She's been quiet for a while, but at Joseph's remark regarding the crows, Isabella finally speaks up: "Based on my experience poking and investigating things through the Veil, we can't presume that what we know out here applies to there," she begins. "It might be enough that white crows are connected to other bits of folklore and mythology in other cultures, and not necessarily Eastern European ones."

When Alexander is asked to read something, there's a pause, glancing over to the investigator. Her own experience on reading objects aren't all that stellar, and while she's accepted that this is part of the complicated portrait from which the man derives his sense of worth and usefulness, now that she knows what sort of strain that places on someone, she is never happy when he has to do it. There's a hint of a thinning mouth on her sunkissed visage, but otherwise she doesn't protest.

The dark-haired businessman may not have dared to say it aloud, but Lilith fills in the blanks to what happened to that crow at the hospital window. A concerned and quiet gaze watches her when she goes into explanation on what she did and what came after. She can feel another squeeze at her shoulder before he reaches for her hand.

Byron has no answer as to why Alexander was given a stone with a symbol in his read, but he does know that strange things happen sometimes when reading items. Especially, odd Veil-like items. "You're not one that I was told to seek out, but who knows what any of this means. It was your hospital room that the crow visited in the first place. I don't know if it was because all of us were there at the time or if it really wanted your help."

Looking between the others, he then states, "I guess we ask her about what she wants? Or what she knows? But if what Cavanaugh says is truth, then we take in what she says with scrutiny. So with one of the symbols, Roxy, out of town and I have a feeling that none of the others will know how to..." He then pauses, "Could a Mover open a door to the other side and reach the Crone's home? From what I can tell, I think, her cottage may move from place to place. And anyway, if a Mover could, how does that relate to any of the others?"

"I'm not sure that would have much effect," Alexander tells Joseph, with a shrug. "I'll try if you want, but..." he grimaces, "she saw me. And I don't think she was pleased. She might escalate next time." He gives a rueful little shrug towards Byron, then returns to Isabella's side, reaching out to trail his fingers along her arm and give her a reassuring smile at the thinning of her mouth.

Lilith sits for a long while after everyone is finished speaking, one hand turning over to lace fingers with Byron's grasping hand once her more personal recount of the first time they saw one of these crows. She plays with her empty wine glass with her other hand before reaching over the man to set it down on a side table, working her bottom lip between her teeth while clockwork thought ticks like cogs and gears behind her blue eyes. She's clearly trying to figure out how to do something for resolve, but after a tiny shake of her head, she mentions and questions with a look aside at Byron.

"Okay. So when we were in the Dream, we were tiny things on the inner workings of a giant eyeball, apparently, which is gross, but..." Lilith works her free hand back through her air dried hair, brows knitting a little, "And Byron, didn't you see things I didn't see when we were leaving? Like a headless dude and a larger mutated crow thing?"

There's a rueful humor in the sailor's blue eyes, as he glances at Isabella. "Fair enough," he says. "I s'pose consistency wasn't a reasonable thing to expect from folks who live on the Other Side. I'll have to look up what I do know about white crows."

He spreads his free hand. "I c'n open doors to there, not so sure 'bout gettin' back out. First time I did it all on my own, it was in a panic, 'n Rosencrantz had to come get me out." Like Joe was a kitten stranded up a tree. "I 'magine it does. All the stories paint her house as walkin' around on chicken legs. So I don't know how to get to her neck of the woods specifically." A shrug, then he waves off Alexander's offer. "Nah, best leave it," he says, not sounding terribly disappointed.

He's still nursing his glass, turning a thoughtful look on Lilith, for the moment.

Byron nods slowly when Joseph explains the extent of his own abilities. "If Rosencrantz is one of the symbols, maybe we need him on board either way." A pause as he looks out to the rest, "de la Vega too." Then Cavanaugh describes the walking house with chicken legs, making the entrepreneur nods, "Yeah, that's what I saw when the crow I was piggybacking on took off. So, I honestly have no idea how we're going to find her, but..." And now he looks straight at Alexander. "I figure she knows that we're trying to right now."

To Lilith's bringing up what more he'd seen at the pool, Byron nods, "Right. Once I canceled out?" There's hesitation in his voice when he says that last part, "the manipulative power of the Eye, the first thing I saw was a woman, like a harpy from mythology. She had crow-like wings. Then another figure. A man without a head. No, with a light source where his head should be. Really unnerving looking. I don't know who any of them are or what it all means." A pause, "Except I'd assumed that the guy with the blindingly glowing light for a head was the Eye, but I can't be too sure."

Lilith moves her head into a slow nod while considering and affirming Byron's account of the other two figures he saw in the Dream that she did not see. After sitting for a pensive moment, her fingers lace tighter with squeezing on the man's hand, then she looks at Joseph, then the others with a bit of a sigh, "This is hard because it's just aligning information to try and make sense of it from varied directions. But it sounds like this 'Baba' wants visitors or discord, in whatever sense, so if we don't want to be blindsided with more terrible crow-occasions, it's probably time to look her in the face and see what happens."

After a tilt of her head, she decides, "Itzhak is probably our best bet of breaking through and trying to find her. Especially if he's one of the symbols, yes. So I guess that's kind of our next step, for whoever wants to present that to him..." Okay, she looked at Joseph with that. She does pay attention to who talks to who while out, even while not talking herself or hitting many of the local bar occasions.

"And I guess unless anything else feels pertinent or has slipped the mind until now, we've probably all said most of what we were thinking to say." There's a pause before she smiles a little at their host, "We're totally lovely visitors with compelling conversation topics."

"I don't doubt we need 'em," Joe agrees, mildly. "I'll reach out to 'em." He bobs his head. "I 'magine she does. 'specially since we just gave her a ring with Clayton there."

Then he's pausing a beat at the mention of the woman like a harpy. "Might not'a been a harpy. I know this story might not be confined to one particular mythology, but there're women like that in Russian myth. Well, female beings - Alkonost, Gamayun, and Sirin. They were generally benign, if I 'member right."

A chuckle for Lilith's comment. "Hell of a lot more interestin' than a lot of small talk I've made in my life, believe you me."

"Initially, I would've hated to drag anyone into this who wasn't already a part. That's the reservation I had when you weren't haunted by crows." Byron tells Joseph, his eyes cast across the way at the man. "Seeing as the chosen, the ones with symbols, are already in this in one way or another, now I don't feel so bad." If anything, a faint yet humored smile touches his lips when he says this. "But yes, thanks. If you don't mind reaching out to Rosencrantz. This crazy thing and the upcoming harvest festival aside, I'm going to be kept busy for a while." He has an actual job outside of this weirdness.

Hearing Joe explain these bird women things all that Byron can do is nod slowly. "I didn't feel threatened by this one, but who am I say. My vision of her disappeared when the energies from that pool created some sort of cyclone and she was replaced by the figure with the light for a head." His eyes narrow when he tries to recall the figure in his mind, "It was light and darkness swirled about where their head should've been."

Looking towards the group as a hole now, he considers what more needs to be discussed, "So do we know everyone that we need to contact then? Like I said, I'm hoping that we don't need everyone together, because it seems like we're down at least one. Other than sharing information, we try to find a way to reach out to her. This Baba Yaga."

"We'll let Joseph talk to Itzhak and go from there to arrange... something." Lilith decides for the group with a nod to Byron's planning, rising up to collect glasses on the apartment host's behalf. Then they leave the man to his day with exchanged pleasantries and plans to be in touch.