2021-06-18 - Storm's Coming

The glass windows and doors to the patio at the Two if by Sea have been boarded up with plywood for the impending storm leaving the main dining area and bar much darker than usual. It's already past dinner hours and well into twilight but with the windows boarded up it makes it feel much much later. Easton is behind the bar and working with a skeleton crew of staff tonight, it's not at all crowded and probably the others have been sent home already. And Easton isn't just bartending tonight, he's also drinking, a glass of whiskey coming along with him as he moves down the bar to take the next order.

Vic has been helping secure the place, and she comes in from the back with a mouthful of nails and a hammer in one hand. The nails get spat out into her free palm and tossed on the counter in front of Easton, and the hammer gets dropped into a tool box. "Back windows are boarded up now too. Here's hoping my house doesn't wind up in Oz or something." She lives on Elm. It might just blow down.

The tall tender is in a TiBS tee and jeans with her hair in a messy braid to keep it out of her way and from tangling around the hammer while she was pounding nails outside. "Anything else you can think of needs to be battened down, boss?"

Looking up at Vic, Easton hmms as if he forgot that she was doing that. "I don't think so.. unless you have any ghost proofing you can do?" He looks around the stools as if expecting to see one of the undead taking up a spot at the bar. He thinks about it for a second and adds, "Oz would be kind of tame for options of places you could end up during a storm here."

"I dunno about that," Vic says with a snort, reaching for a bottled beer from the cooler. "Those flying monkeys scared the shit out of me as a kid." She flicks the cap off with a thought, sending it into the bin with a rattle and sips her drink. "I'll probably bunker down at Seth's. I think his house is a bit less rickety than mine is. I'll have my cell on me but if the lines go down, you can probably find me there."

A loud, rattling diesel engine sounds in the parking lot, and a few minutes later August shoulders his way in past the wind. The rain's still light, but those heavy clouds on the horizon promise a downpour soon enough. He's in a black squall jacketed, battered denim jeans, and heavy hikers: rough weather clothes.

He's also got an undercut, relatively fresh by how short the shaved sides are, the reason for which is no doubt the long, still-red line of a stitched up head wound. "Marshall. You all buttoned up here?" He gives Vic an up-nod as he approaches the bar.

The storm's been keeping the local first responders plenty busy. Looting and petty crime have been up, and more than one ladder's been called in to assist with someone's failed attempt at sandbagging their property.

Few people, of course, bear the brunt of all of it more than the not-Chief. He's ducking inside not too far behind August, though clearly not having arrived with him, cell phone held to his ear as he carries on what looks like a fairly one-sided conversation. Which entails the person on the other end conversing, and him listening, while he ambles over to the bar to get himself a drink. A scruffy black hoodie, jeans and work boots comprise his rain gear tonight, which might explain why he looks a bit damp.

Taking a /I'm just straight up drinking/ sip of his whiskey Easton swallows and looks at Vic with a tilted head about riding it out at Seth's. He picks the safer topic, "I straight up hated the lion, just wanted to punch him in the face again and again and again." Looking up at August he upnods, "Just about. I got the main room. Vic got the back. That just leaves the hellhole portal to the veil in the basement to fuck with us."

Vic returns August's nod of hello as she goes about collecting bits and bobs of loose things and putting them into secured containers. Even if Easton doesn't think of these things, the bartender does. Ruiz gets a look as he comes in, eyes narrowed a moment before she mumbles to Easton, "His first tequila is on me, looks like he needs it."

August slowblinks at East. "...I hadn't even thought of that." And now, he's thinking of all kinds of things, like the carousel, and the sawmill, and--

Well. Nothing to be done about it now. Anyways what could they even do about the sawmill? He sighs, rubs at his eyes, nods. "Cy, Jen, and I are all taking a truck home. So if something," he waves a hand over his head, "falls on you, text the emergency number. We can come out and get it moved."

He eyes the floor, as if he could see through to said portal to hell. "Thinking you wanna...I dunno, barricade it with something maybe? Just in case?" He settles against the bar, wincing, gives Ruiz a small smile of hello. Storms are a busy time for both of them, and not even for unrelated reasons.

Upnodding at Ruiz when he walks in , Easton reaches out for the tequila before Vic is even offering to pay for it. He pours a glass for Ruiz and keeps the bottle up on the bar instead of putting it away.

"No. It won't matter. I mean what would you barricade it with? Unicorn blood?" Easton looks over at the part of the floor that flips up to reveal the secret office and former entrance to the facility. He shakes his head and says, "I mean I can't tell if that's why things keep happening here."

August gets a grunted hola in greeting that might just extend to Vic as well, the way his dark eyes pass over her.. and pause, before shifting away. Then he's finishing up his phonecall, something about heading into Seattle tomorrow morning, and he'll see her then. No, no time for lunch, que tengas una buena noche with a chortle as he hangs up.

"Unicorn blood? Don't tell me, I don't want to know." His glass is hooked closer, and he starts tugging his wallet out to pay for it, apparently oblivious to Vic's generosity.

Being the owner and co-owner of a couple of businesses in town, among other things, Byron Thorne has been kept very busy as of late. One would think that would give him very little time to stop by at the local bar for a drink, but seeing that the Two If By Sea is practically in his backyard somewhere, it didn't hurt to swing on by for some company and to check on how things are going, preparation-wise. That and the place was on his way home.

Noting several familiar vehicles in the lot, the businessman already has some idea on who all might be there to share a drink with. He's dressed more casually as of late, most likely putting in some actual hands on work in setting up defenses for his establishments. Wearing a navy blue and brown plaid flannel shirt, the sleeves folded up to his elbows and a pair of jeans with black boots, the ever slick Thorne takes a quiet roll call of all the usual suspects as he makes his way towards the bar, though his attention is drawn to the windows and such, giving the place a look over to view how Easton was boarding things up.

Looks like he came right on time because conversation is getting real interesting. With a check of his watch and another scan of the room, as if looking for someone, he turns to the others with an upnod in greeting and a friendly smile. "Chief, Roen." Dark eyes flicker over to Easton now and his smile widens, "Marshall and Vic. Looks like you have things in order here. As best as we can muster with what's supposed to be hitting us soon enough. Let me know if you need help with anything, though gotta say, we've got our hands full with the casino as well." He finally places an order, "I'll just have a beer to start."

Vic frowns. "I'd think the best best is to close up and make sure no one is in here during the storm. Then open back up real careful like, and heavily armed, afterwards.

August coughs a laugh. "Careful, don't let Itzhak hear you talking about unicorn blood." But this does have him wondering if it would work, and he tilts his head, thoughtful. "You know, you might be on to something--I don't mean actual unicorn blood, but, we can grow things from Over There. So maybe there's some kind of," he gestures aimlessly, "equivalent of a magical lock, you know? Some way to make sure nothing can come back through." He points at Easton. "Seems like people like you and Itzhak are the sort that'd be able to do that, even."

He looks askance at Vic, eyebrows up. "I mean, I assume no one plans to be on site in the storm," he cuts a look at Ruiz, "except first responders and emergency services." He raises a hand to Byron. "Right Thorne? You probably booted everyone out of the casino already."

"Thorne!" Easton calls out to his former business partner when he walks in, what would be considered loud for others is merely normal tones for the one-legged former Marine. "You know it's really impressive you've kept that casino going without my business acumen." He's kidding of course, he was at best a silent partner and the lawyers for the Marshall trust do a better job of controlling that interest than he ever did.

"Shit that's actually..." Easton narrows his eyes at August and thinks about that before taking another drink. "If I can open 'em I should find out if I can lock 'em."

"Oh" He turns to Vic but keeps an eye on Ruiz as he tells her, "I should probably mention the bar's fuckin' haunted." As if that's news in this town. "Again." His tone is hard to read, but it's like that statement is supposed to be meaningful in a town of crazy supernatural shenanigans.

"Again? I thought you got rid of that asshole that shot the place up last time?" Vic grunts at Easton. "All right, I'm gonna head home and finish bringing my yard furniture inside. Everyone stay safe. Even you," the last sent at Ruiz with a smirk. Then the blonde is heading out.

The sound of that Russian motor is absurd, distinctive. Like someone poured gravel in the tank of a tractor. It dies away, and there's a figure draped in an old military surplus poncho in the doorway, face concealed by its hood.

Until he steps fully into the bar and flips the hood down, like some kind of cut-rate Obi Wan Kenobi. Joe's already thrashing his way out of said poncho, revealing his scruffy self in jeans and t-shirt, heading right for where Ruiz sits. Just as a matter of course.

"Again?" grumbles de la Vega, practically in stereo with Vic. Which earns the enforcer a dour look. He collects his glass, and knocks it back for a sip, then uses it to greet the arriving well-dressed businessman with a murmur of, "Hey, Thorne." That smile? A tad wolfish. Back to Easton, and he doesn't quite meet his gaze when he asks, "How, uh, how've you been? Haven't seen you in a while. Ships passing, something like that."

"A hotel and casino right on the water?" Byron murmurs, before giving out a quiet chuckle. "Yes. Though there were a few who I had to put up at the apartments because they had no other accommodations or ability to leave before the storm hits. Several of them just departed earlier today." Slipping both hands into his pockets, one reaches for his phone eventually, which he pulls out to look at. Most likely, checking to see if he got any messages. "I hope to God that the casino's barricades are enough to keep that investment from floating away due to this."

Though there's a quirk of his brow when Easton mentions the bar being haunted and he has to echo what Vic says, "Again? Is it a friendly haunting or something that needs to be dealt with?" As for this 'gateway', he nods slowly, "Might be a wise idea." To find a way to shut that door.

When the door opens, the man's eyes immediately wanders that way. He's definitely waiting for someone... "Hey Cavanaugh. Nothing like a good drink with friends after a long day of doing what you can to protect one's assets, right? What did you do with your boat?"

August flips a hand back and forth at Easton, nods in agreement. "Exactly. I can hurt someone, or heal them--so, maybe you can open or close the border." Though, like Ruiz, Thorne, and Vic, he's nonplussed to hear the bar's haunted. "Again, or, still?"

A wince for the casino; let's be honest, August was never a fan, yet he can appreciate that it's a significant monetary loss for Byron et al. "They're a lot better about construction on the water these days. Should be fine, I think, this far in the harbor." There, that's neutral enough, right?

Easton's face screws up at Vic as she refers to the ghost as that asshole, as if he's about to bite her head off on the way out before he realizes he wasn't quite specific enough. He 'ohs', and says "No! No, it's not Gohl. It's .. It's my own personal fuckin' ghost." He adds to Ruiz who might be the only one the name means something to, "It's Tom." he punctuates that with a big swig. Not even trying to hide the connection between those two things.

"Oh I'm /fffucking/ dandy." Easton answers with all the faux chipper he can muster. "But yeah.. ships passing." His voice goes flat at that explanation. He upnods to Joe and asks, "Dark and stormy or is that a little too on the nose tonight?"

The dim lights gleam off the lenses of Joe's glasses, as he settles himself in a ruffle of wet poncho, trying to bundle it up so he's not dripping water everywhere. "Hey, landlord," he says to Byron, tone teasing. "Surprise is stored as far away from the water as I could get her." He's grinning a little, and there's a faintly manic energy to him. Like the storm rising is tweaking that urge for danger, raising the hackles on the back of his neck - perhaps some old memory of having to land on pitching decks.

Easton's question makes him cock his head, considering. "Sounds perfect," he says, after a beat. "Don't mind if I do."

There's probably more responsible things than... going to the bar before the storm of the century, but... drinking is apparently quite important tonight. Byron is glancing at his phone and the door, sure, but as soon as one person moves out of the doorway, she slips in while the man is talking, taking advantage of a stealthy hole shot for entry. Instead of going straight for the man where he stands, she edges with veer to the right so she can make a point of coming in behind him, assuming the others don't out her on the way, it's not like she's hiding or anything.

No, she's just being a hyperactive scamp. Once she's slipped behind him and his drink, Lilith outright gooses Byron in the ass with one hand and latches the other arm in sweep hug to cling behind him so he can't turn and grab her, "Damn, look at that ass."

August relaxes, lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Not Gohl." He's sympathetic, though, as to who it is. "Sorry, though, that's...not easy, I'm sure. Considering." Considering Easton, in theory, sacrificed Tom to unbind Gohl. Well, joke's on all of them, apparently.

He pulls a face at Joe. "Well, good to hear you got her out of the water. A shame, with summer just starting. Kind of wish everyone was being as smart." He flicks a glance at the deck, beyond which some boats are still on the docks. In a few days some of them will be fiberglass and wood kindling on the shore. So it goes.

Poor Byron--and not a hint of this from August, who studiously avoids tracking Lilith's approach in the least.

Lifting the bottle to his lips, Byron's brows mimic the action, just as he takes a much needed gulp of the brew. Beer lowered, but still clutched within his grasp, he states, "Yeah. I called in some experts in this sort of thing. It's a good thing that I invested in a decent insurance policy, primarily because the thing is on the water." Hearing what Joseph has to say about his own boat, this only causes the dark haired man's lips to lift into a grin, "I should really look into making the casino amphibious. Move it around when necessary. " This is all probably just a joke!

There's some relief that comes over Byron, knowing that whatever haunts the Twofer is not Gohl. Though, he does have to watch Easton when he talks about Tom, just to gauge his feelings on that matter, in the case some sort of assistance is necessary. That's probably why he misses Lilith's entrance completely as well. Wetting his lips, he looks like he's about to say something, right when Lilith comes up from behind with a surprise of her own, forcing him to turn to face his bully. "Jeez Lil. I was wondering when you'd show up." The hint of annoyance in his tone quickly fades into laughter. Settling down onto his stool, he pats his lap, "Have a sat. And a drink while you're at it."

Javier, of course, spots Lilith as she's skulking about trying not to be seen by Byron until the last possible second. And tries to smother his amusement over it, when she gooses him. "Hey, baby," Joe earns in greeting, along with a little bunt of his forehead against the other man's. Then Easton's reply finally registers, and he grimaces slightly. "What's he want?" Even though he's got to have some idea of the answer to that question. And it's hardly the sort of thing they're going to discuss right here, out in the open.

The cop's shoulders are a little tense as the place fills up. Too many people, and he looks like he'd like to crawl into his shell if he had one.

Sliding Joe a drink, Easton gives August a shrug of /whatya gonna do/ at the apology even if it is appreciated. He's clearly in the drinking phase of dealing with this, and since it's Easton, that's a really long phase. He greets Lilith with a wink and nod of approval at her goosing of Thorne. More people need to goose Thorne in Easton's opinion.

He blows out an annoyed breath at Ruiz's very valid question and answers flippantly, "To /fuck/ wi' me?" He thinks about that a second and says, "And I'm still trying to get outta him where he fucked off to but course we're back to playin' charades an'.." He pulls out a cigarette and puts in his mouth in frustration but stops short of actually lighting it. For now.

"So anyway, you all see a tall blond ghost walkin' around looking like a crayon eatin' jar head, tell 'im to fuck off for me." He addresses that to the larger crowd. And at least he knows these people well enough now to just say that outloud. It's a little better than when he was first haunted and just thought he was nuts.

The sailor's long face is very solemn indeed. "I ain't riskin' her, if there's somethin' within my means to keep her safe. She's what I got, you know?"
Byron's quip, however, makes Joe's somber expression fade, relax into a grin. "You should make it a boat," he says. "I mean, plenty of 'em, you know? Waterborne casinos out there."

Then there's that touch of Ruiz's forehead to his, and the smile turns fond. "Hey, baby," he says, softly. Only listening to the questions about the ghosts, expression keenly interested, again. Easton slides him the glass, and he lifts it to the bartender. "To your very good health," he intones. Apparently Joe's also in the drinking to deal with this phase.

Watching Lilith get the best of Thorne, August grunts a laugh. "That's what happens when you get with the sneaky ones. Heya Lil."

He makes a low sound, glances between Ruiz and Easton. "I'm not sure they want anything, sometimes. Maybe some are more like a...scar. You just notice them more sometimes than others." He raises his eyebrows, looks out over the bar, like Tom might pop into view with his ears burning. "And this storm's not...normal." He looks among everyone else. "At least, not if those Dreams and that old woman are any indication."

A nod at Joe. "It's a good idea. Put the important stuff in a safe spot." His voice lowers; he takes to studying the bar. "This is gonna get ugly."

"I'm slow. Spank me later."

Lilith seems prepared to bite or pinch Byron next in case of cranky because she's abusive like that, but after a squint upward at him through her mascara darkened lashes, the brunette woman slants on a lopsided grin when he starts to laugh. Then she openly amps that grin with brightening pull while she lifts a hand in faux salute touch to her brow, looking to see who else is present and accounted for. All the guys nearby get a roll call down by their own special names, then her hand drops and she falls back into Byron's lap where he's made a convenient and cozy place for her.

"Plantmaster... Captain Boomstuff... Space Invader... y por último ... pero nunca menos importante, el capitán Gunslinger."

The woman is wearing cut off denim shorts that are probably just as flattering on her as anything else snazzy she wears around to match Byron's suit. They're paired with a side-tied, midriff skimming black t-shirt with neon pink lettering that's advertising some bar (or strip club) in Miami. Pulling her hair down from clip twist, Lilith starts to work fingers through kinked waves and curls from where it was probably all put up wet or damp. After flipping one leg over the other in cross, she bats her lashes at Easton and whispers (like Byron can't hear).

"Psssst. Feed me vodka with a splash of seltzer and I'll be your best friend..."

Can anyone blame Javier for getting a liiiiiittle bit distracted by all that leg and midriff on display right now from Lilith? She's sitting about four feet away, and it's not like he doesn't have a pair of perfectly functioning eyes. He steals a glance, takes a slug of his tequila, and mmhmms as Easton talks to him. At which point he realises he's not sure what the guy just said.

"Por el contrario, supongo que guardó lo mejor para el final," he quips back to Lilith, dark eyes slanting with the grin he gives her.

Then a breath blown out his nose, and a shake of his head at Easton. "Maybe I can try talking to him. De hombre a hombre. Yeah?" He tips a brow up, and slants Joe a look like he's soliciting his opinion on this.

"If we see him," Byron says of Tom, going for a long drain of his bottle, "We'll tell him you said 'hi'." Fuck off. Hi. It's all the same. Dark eyes turn to Joseph when the man brings up turning the casino into a boat. "That has been done many times before. I'm not discounting it, of course. And it's probably more practical than giving it treads and have it roll up on land when needed." Yeah, he's probably not going to do anything too wild with the Grand Olympic...

Following Lilith's gaze when she goes down the line of bar regulars with her cute nicknames, Byron knows better than to ask her what his nickname is. He's probably got quite a few of them. In fact, his mind is on that dream which August brought up. Something which he'd been playing back in his mind. "Nothing here is ever normal."

Lilith's run down of nicknames gets a grin from him, and he even tucks the cigarette behind his ear rather than light it for now. He gives her a quick nod at the drink order and gets basically a glass of vodka with a slice of lime that once saw some seltzer somewhere.

"Yeah, I mean it's not /him/." Easton agrees with August. A clear distinction that he's repeated to himself over and over again both before and after Tom reappeared. "And of course this storm isn't. My money's on the Snorks got fed up and are coming to fuck our shit up."

"Appreciate it." Easton tells Thorne at his offer but then quirks an eyebrow at Ruiz. "Does that work?" He taps his head as if he can't just say glimmer outloud in a discussion about ghosts "With ghosts? ... right." Some memories of Gohl and how horrifically bad it went but technically did work do filter back in. "Yeah that might be worth a shot." There is something like a 'thanks' mumbled as he fills his own glass back up only to drain it back down to half again.

August's reply gets a little tip of his glass in agreement. "That's the most precious thing I own. Least that I got with me on this coast." Then Joe pulls a face. "Of course, all the things I value that I left are sitting in another port town, but Savannah doesn't get a lot of hurricanes." A nod for that. "It's somethin' bad that's comin'. War in Heaven, maybe. Some kind of seismic change or battle on the Other Side."

Lilith gets flashed a grin. His own gaze follows Javier's to hers, and his smile is a hair more appreciative. Then he looks at Ruiz directly. "Can you talk to ghosts? I mean, as a general thing? Are they conscious enough to be more'n, like....emotional recordings?"

Byron he smirks at over the rim of his glass. "Well, if you did make it waterborne, could just sail it away 'fore somethin' like this comes along, even if this stretch of coast isn't storm prone in the general run of things." He seems cheerful enough, for a self-appointed prophet of doom.

August dips his head at Easton, gives Joe a half-hearted shrug. "Hard to say, about their emotions. I think it varies, really--sort of like, our memories vary, or injuries don't all heal the same way. Them being gone leaves a different impact in different places and on different people. But you can talk to them," he nods firmly, "oh yes."

He pauses, aside to Ruiz, "Careful, though, with the," he rubs his fingers, not saying 'glimmer' either, "because they can use it. That's what Gohl was doing--using Thomas'."

Maybe he's be about to say more, except, Lilith calls him 'Plantmaster'. August stills, seems to go a little pale. Then he realizes he's staring and shakes himself out. "Okay, I gotta get home. I was only allowed out of the house on the condition I came right back with more sandbags. So. Catch you all around, yeah?"

...and like that, he's out the door.

There's a new round of amused smile cropped up with genuine fondness in her wide blue eyes as return greetings are given. Happily sweeping up her given drink with a gracious noise in her throat at Easton, Lilith turns a bit in her seated position in Byron's lap while sipping and eyeing the man up close. Mostly, she's listening to the pieces of conversation and possibly considering what nickname he's getting called in front of the guys, apparently spared the first roll call round. He's spared again, though -- something about storms and Dreams in combination steals her attention and turns it into distraction for a beat.

Lilith takes a longer drink from her glass, then starts to play with the lime wedge using her poking fingertips, "You can definitely talk to them. They can... move things... and..." The woman trails off and watches August rise up to make quick exit with a turn of expression that makes her blink briefly. She stops the list of what-can-be-expected-of-ghosts before relating personal experience and flat out asks once the botanist is gone.

"... shit. What'd I do?"

"Yeah, Tom figured out he can touch and interact with things with my glimmer." Easton sounds none to thrilled about this particular trick. "Mostly means he gets to pretend to drink with me.. which is fuckin' infuriating." Of course everything about the situation seems to make Easton angry so that's not really a surprise. "I'm going out for a smoke..." He heads for the doors to the patio but of course they are boarded up tight which get him to growl in frustration and head for his office. Technically he shouldn't smoke in there but who's going to care?

Javier's brows furrow slightly when Easton mentions Tom borrowing his glimmer. But by the time he opens his mouth to say something about it, the guy's getting up to go have his smoke. "See you later," he murmurs, inked thumb worrying along the rim of his glass as he watches him go.

Then after a glance at his watch, the last of his drink's knocked back, and he asides to Joe, "I was going to make a run on the store. Stock up a little. You want to come with me, or will I see you at home?"

Hearing something that Easton says, Byron's gaze diverts over towards the bartender. "Tom uses you to interact with the world?" He has a lot to say about that, some of which August brings up when he mentions Gohl. Rather than adding to that conversation, for now, the businessman simply finishes off his beer, setting the empty bottle on the bar top. "If he's a friend... nothing wrong sharing a drink with friends. Past and present. As long as they aren't intruding in on your life anyway."

"Anyone can talk to a ghost. In fact," And here he's right about to put his foot in his mouth, before he stops himself. With a tight lipped smile, he shakes his head. "Anyway. They're around. They can be a nuisance, but not all of them are harmful." Like his father-in-law... or is soon to be father-in-law? One of those.

Shifting in his seat to make his lap more comfortable for the dark haired lady sitting on it, Thorne then brings up with a sigh, "When will we reach the amount of preparation needed for comfort? For all we knows, we should be building domes over our homes to keep out the rising tide from drowning us if news of this storm is to be believed." And he definitely believes it. "I'll be watching the whole thing from the apartment." The Penthouse. "Get a bird's eye view of the chaos."

Reaching an idle hand to brush finger through Lilith's locks, he then asks Ruiz and Joseph, "Just let me know if you need anything. From a landlord, a concerned citizen. You name it."

The idea of ghosts using Glimmer to affect the living world makes Joe go pale, too, and lower his glass, rather carefully. "I di'n't know that," he says, before asiding to the departing August's back, "Vaya con Dios, man," As if they really were all heading into combat. Maybe that's what it feels like, his brain trying to use remembered sensation to create some kind of analogue for what's happening now.

At Javier's question, Joe says, "I'll come witcha, baby. We gonna ride this out with enough liquor to float away on a raft made of the empty bottles - sound good?" He's already slapping down tab and his usual too-generous tip. Like he's trying to buy his way back into Easton's good graces. Byron has him pausing - why is he tipping in Sacajawea dollars anyhow - and looking that way. "I've put a lot of my stuff in storage," he admits. "Far inland as I could, too. Assuming that building survives, I still wanna live there, though. What 'bout you? You all set up to ride this out safely?"

Lilith hums and eyes the door even after August is gone. Then she works her bottom lip with teeth trap a tiny bit while following Easton's departure with her eyes next, gaze a hint thoughtful. Nursing another sip of her barely watered down vodka, she stops playing about with the lime and nods herself out of distraction about the time Byron's hand slips with doting affection through her hair. She seems to have shopping advice for de la Vega's comment about the store.

"That's where I was before coming here-- it took me longer than I expected to get in and out, the place is a bit of a zoo at the moment.. but that's no real surprise. And you have a gun, so... it'll be fine, just wave it around with menace, you won't have to wait in line and Mabel from the Waffle House will hand over the last loaf of bread."

Though her words are perfectly dry conversational with humor, Lilith doesn't crack a grin, which is part of her little personal humor charm. She carries on conversationally for Joe with a dismissive wave of her free hand, "Honestly, I kind of hope the pawn blows away, but I spent the day pointing at places to be boarded by the help... and pretending like I was contributing. It'll be fine, I think. Kind of like a cockroach, I can't shake the place, even with a good dire spray down. " Lifting her glass to gesture loosely with invitation while the others prepare to depart, she makes offer.

"If you get tired of being locked up with yourselves, we'll be in the Penthouse behind storm shutters, hunkering down, absolutely free to visit, assuming we don't get it from a Kraken..." Pause, "I kind of want to fight a kraken. No wait, I shouldn't have said that..." Another pause, then a drink with hitching shrug of shoulders, "Oh well."

A glance at the boarded-up windows already beginning to shudder behind the force of the wind tells Javier all he needs to know about the disposition of the weather tonight. He's already looking a tetch discomfited by it as he pulls to his feet, and pats himself down quickly. Yep, gun's still there, holstered tight against his ribs and under that ratty hoodie he's wearing.

"You've got my number, yeah?" That's to Byron and Lilith both. "I don't know what the fuck's going to happen with the house. Done the best we could with sandbags, but uh.." He scrapes fingers through his beard. Who the hell knows, with a storm like this.

Belatedly, he seems to realise what Joe's been prattling about. And makes sure to pontificate that, "We're not building a raft out of fucking beer bottles. Come on. Let's go, before Mabel decides to give her last loaf of bread to someone else." Lilith's shoulder gets a squeeze on his way by, and Byron's a solid clap, and then he's off for the door.

A quiet grin forms on Byron's lips listening to the banter between Joseph and Ruiz in regards to a beer bottle raft. Half-turning to look on his astronaut tenant now, he nods slowly. "The building was built to withstand weather like... well, normal storms. And when I took ownership, I had each unit fitted with storm windows and things of that nature." He sounds 75% convinced that what he's done for the Bayside is adequate enough for even a storm of this magnitude. "Unless something incredible happens, like an earthquake suddenly opened up to swallow us all or the entire place floods, which I'm hoping that our draining system can deal with that, or," Now he looks to Lilith, "if we're assaulted by a Kraken, I think that the triple threat," The three towers of the Bayside apartments, "Should hold up." Now if only he were so certain about that casino of his!

"Yeah, I still have your number. Unless you changed it." There's a devilish grin on his lips when he says this, a fleeting glance on Ruiz. "I'll keep in touch. Several of our tenants have left because of the storm. Temporarily... mostly. If need be, I might be migrating more of our lower level tenants to a higher floor to help sort that out. You both, keep safe, alright?"

He then murmurs to Lilith, his lips pressed against her hair, "You know that pawn shop is going nowhere fast."

"Lemme know what you mean to do, I'll help if I can," Joe tells Byron, simply. Then he gives Ruiz a doe-eyed look. "C'mon, baby. I'll let you fly the Mexican flag on the mast," he teases, as he starts the process of re-shrouding himself in that poncho, so he can go looming around the streets of Gray Harbor as if he were some sort of cheapo Grim Reaper. Then he's padding after Ruiz, still carrying that aura of barely restrained enthusiasm with him.