Repose

Who: Claire Johnson
What: Prayers
Where: Chapel in the Catholic church
When: Recently
Warnings: An obnoxious amount of Catholic guilt.

( Claire wept. )

[Cat Bar Employees]
I'm taking over for meow face until she comes back. My name is Eddie Nelson, I run the arcade and I'm partial to margaritas.

[Stephanie & Sasha]

Cat left town.

[Bruce W.]

Do you know anything about Cat leaving?

[Jason W.]

I need you to work a little extra this week, kid.

[Immediately after this, and without any answers if there are replies.]

[Left at the Arcade for Eddie N]
[A set of keys to the bar, along with the staff list (Claire, Jude, MJ, Matt), and a note:] Need to get away. Keep an eye on things for me? C.

[Locked to Newt P]
Your brother just left. I'd find him if I was you.

[Texts to Bruce W]
[Bruce gets international GPS locations texted to him with regularity - after she leaves each location. In, she hopes, exchange for information about Helena.]. [Once she hears from Stephanie and Damian, no further texts to Bruce.]

[Call: Marta F]
[Ring, ring.]

[Gwen, MJ, Felicity]
[Around 5pm, as the sun sets.]

Pretty fucking uneventful day, huh? I got some cell reception over at the beach and there's caves here. Where you guys at?

[The roadhouse on the edge of town? Yeah, you know, the one that used to be a firehouse before, and been on-again, off-again for sale since fucking forever? Somebody's bought it out. The previous owner started gutting the place before, and whoever they are now, they're finishing the job.

As the local gossip goes: seems somebody is turning the place into a gym, and it ain't your mother's gym. Judging by all the second-hand equipment getting hauled in, the place will have an extensive selection of racks, weights, heavy bags, and benches. More strength and weight training than elliptical machines, but still beats out the rec center's geriatric collection by far. (Oh yeah, tired of the rec center's lone bench being perpetually camped on by some bro? No longer, my dude.)

No advertisements show up around town. Either the owner has a real shrewd understanding of how gossip works in this town or is, perhaps, not very good at this business thing at all. But while work is ongoing, one very handmade sign gets tacked to the garage door out front. It lists contact info for the interested, promising dirt cheap membership, free months for referrals, and some kind of class schedule soon.]


[Public]

open house at the roadhouse this weekend. all furniture and fixins up for grabs. yeah that includes the bar. plenty of other shit to pick through. if you ever wanted to own like ten different paintings of dogs playin cards? heres yr big fuckin chance.

cash only. ill haul whatever fits in my truck for an extra fee. come by and take this shit off my hands kids.

[Locked to Jason W]
What're your plans for Valentine's Day, killer? Think about your answer.

[Just a few minutes after her call with her brother cuts off. It's taken her that long to pull herself together. As Marta F.]

I need to go to the island. Who can get me there?