Repose

Who: Eris and Cris
What: keeping the gears turning
Where: The station
When: Monday morning
Warnings/Rating: language? tbd

Eris walked up to the police station, sunglasses hiding her eyes. She was bright and early, knowing that she needed to make the rounds. Doing an illegal business in a small town required certain people to remain happy to look the other way. That meant a pay out. She needed to keep the wheels of the machine greased, by any means necessary.

Skirting the building, she took a side entrance that she usually did, bypassing the front desk. After all, the less eyes there were on her the better. Sure, Hookerville was one of the worst kept secrets in town, but that didn't mean she flaunted things. Flaunting was the quickest way to invite trouble, and she'd had more trouble in her life than she could stomach.

She had dreams for Hookerville, she just needed time to build it up. She smiled as she headed for the Sheriff's office door, knocking twice before trying to door, hoping it wasn't locked.

Who: Eddie and Emily
Where: New Jersey
When: a while ago before Repose
What: saying goodbye
Warnings: pretty tame!

( There was really just one thing holding him back. )

I'm not sure what's worse...

Not getting a book returned.

Or getting it returned, but unable to identify the liquid that's stained and warped the pages.

I don't think my bottle of hand sanitizer is going to be enough to make me feel clean again.

[Public]

Best part of living here? The Cha-Cha Slide isn't played every night at midnight. (Note: That is not an invitation nor a suggestion.)

Worst part? Meth heads breaking in at 4am.

Who: Kyle and Meredith
What: what's in the future?
Where: Carnival
When: Monday evening
Warnings/Rating: language? unsure

Kyle didn't regret buying his tumbledown old wreck of a house. Not a bit. Not for a minute. Not at all. Well - mostly not at all. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but...Okay, it was a little teenie weeny bit foreboding after the sun went down. Old houses creaked all the time, right? And loomed? And most of the time, he could lock himself up in the corner of a room with paints and canvas and he could lose himself enough that the surroundings didn't bother him. Channelling the nerves and edging fear into creativity.

Most of the time.

Tonight, though, he'd needed to get out of the house and he'd headed to the carnival. Bring lights, people, deep fried, supposedly edible things on sticks. A world away from his overly large, very lonely place-called-home.

He was still licking his fingers clean when he saw it. The sign asking him if he wanted his fortune told. Well, it seemed like fun and he doubted it could do any harm. Pulling a white handkerchief from his pocket, he properly cleaned his hands and headed that way, a bounce in his step.

[It isn't quite in season, but he still leaves a freshly cut stalk of violet hyacinth for her, sitting in a slender vase at her door. Its fragrant enough to dim - but not nearly enough to completely mask - the scent of her paints.]

[Sam A.]

[Very late. Or early, depending on how you look at it.]

Make new coffee.