Repose

Who: Patrick and Newt
What: A two-day trail mapping trip.
Where: Shoshone National Forest
When: Starting Tuesday
Warnings/Rating: TBD

Patrick had loaded up the truck with provisions and gear to crash at one of the park's lookouts, and he was ready to get on the road. The dude liked long drives, even in this most unforgiving heat. He would crank the air conditioning up as cold as it would go, and he would open the windows to allow the warm summer breeze in. He would blare music so loudly his ears rang, man, and he would settle into the drive and allow his mind to wander. This trip would be different, as he would not be alone in the truck, but he was looking forward to it all the same. He was not currently feeling trapped by Repose, but he was not a dude made for staying still; Patrick liked to wander, man.

It was currently early morning, and he had dropped Rufus off with another Ranger; the dude would be watching the dog during this trip (next time, Patrick would ask Mary, now that she was back in town). But Rufus had been successfully settled, and Patrick had picked up two iced coffees from the local cafe (they now rested in the truck's cup holders), and he was returning to the homestead to collect Newt. The dude had Spotify going in the truck, but he was not playing the playlist he had agreed upon with Newt; he was somewhat nervous about that, dude, even if it was most stupid. Currently, Taylor sang, and Patrick (who looked most sleepy and tousled) had an elbow out the window as he pulled up in front of the homestead and pressed his palm to the horn.

[Nishka B.]
[Better late than never, right? Leo has been in LA for the month collecting information about Nishka's dead man. Delivered to her apartment is an envelope with evidence of plates matching a car that was the same make and model of a west coast mobster (with the same scratch on the left size, Leo points out in red marker) that might have hit her car. There's some other evidence, very specific, which is Leo's style. A hair to be analyzed by someone more talented than him, a few pictures of someone tailing him through LA and finally a few different murders that might have been the one James witnessed- all mob related. Finally, a note from Leo: "I WOULD NOT FUCK WITH THIS."

[Claire J.]

[He's been gone for a month and yet:] Baked goods, please.

[Public]

It's 100 degrees outside, I'm not serving you hot coffee. Stop asking.

[The Card is here. Old, frayed at the edges, and undeniably apt. The writing is not writing at all, but type. Old type. Local postmark.]

Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books.
But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.