Repose

→ Whatever has been causing humanity to return to the residents of Repose ceases. There is no indication what happened or why, and local officials make no statements regarding the incident. Officially, it's as if it never happened, and life continues on in the strange little town. The return to normalcy may come to those affected in one swoop or gradually, but none of the effects are lasting.

→ The first real snow of the year falls on Sunday night, and snowflakes light up the night sky. No, really, they light up the night sky. The flakes are prismatic, pinks and purples and blue beneath the glow of the moon. The snow itself is white and fluffy and beautiful, and it's strangely temperate for the year's first snow that sticks. Town Hall instructs residents not to worry about the colorful flakes, blaming recent rains and atmospheric conditions for the phenomenon. Whatever the reason, it makes for a beautiful night and a brightly lit sky, and residents that venture out to play in the flurries are rewarded with the happy feelings of childhood returned to them. The feeling only lasts a few days, but it's warm and fuzzy and fades slowly.

→ Tis the season, and the annual tree lighting ceremony is scheduled to occur on Main Street in early December after the tryptophan glut ends. It's a nighttime affair, and there will be caroling and hot cocoa for all who attend. Additionally, the town tradition of Secret Santas will continue this season, and all residents with names registered on the forums will receive the names of their gift recipients after the tree is lit. As always, Town Hall requests secrecy until Santas are revealed later in the month.

→ County Health officials descend on Repose after the first case of rabies is reported. They cordon off the woods and a town-wide curfew goes into effect immediately. Residents are encouraged to remain indoors and avoid all wildlife, and anyone found out after dark will be taken to the local jail, which is crowded with out-of-town officials. Special field offices are set up outside the local antiques store and outside the gates of Wainright Manor, and those areas are cleared out by on-loan law enforcement. The local hospital has physicians from neighboring towns on staff, and a temporary triage center is erected near the edge of the town's cemetery. The curfew and officials will remain until the threat has passed.

→ In the Capital, the funeral for the magician that held the Halloween party is finally scheduled. It's announced in all local papers and across the web that the service will be held at the Capital's old abandoned amusement park, The Jester's Court. The invitation promises food and fun for those attending, and the abandoned locale is enough to get a buzz going. The park has been closed since the 1970s, when two children disappeared on the funhouse ride. All rides are in working order for the length of the week, and the amusement park itself is a blast from the past. The music, the food, even the clothing of the carnies mirrors what it would've been on that fateful day back in the 70s. And if anyone goes missing on one of the rides, they're sure to find their way out before the park closes again at the end of the week.

→ The summer heat disperses, and Repose is left with beautiful days in wake of the sticky summer months. The air gets cooler, and the breeze that blows through the trees feels almost magically refreshing. And something else happens as the heat is ushered out of the small town: Fireflies appear. The fireflies light up Repose's night sky, as if drawn there. It's a beautiful display, and residents who venture out late in the evening, when the town is shuttered up and asleep, get a light show like no other. The fireflies dance every night, almost as if performing, before disappearing into the new fall cool. Residents spread blankets on the grass and turn their faces toward the sky.

→ In the Capital, two teenage runaways wander into the local precinct claiming they're from 1700s France. After an extensive psychiatric evaluation, the teenagers claim to have been living in a book in the old Vade Mecum library. The library, which features non-fiction books and letters from various time periods, and which has a strict policy of all reading materials remaining within the library itself, has been inundated with visitors since the teens made their unlikely claims. No similar cases have been reported, though, notably, two visitors who signed in at the front desk 48-hours earlier have not been seen since.

→ There's something loose in Repose. Unseen by any of the town's residents, there's a small creature causing mischief. It steals small items from homes, scampers away with food from counters and plates, and it sounds like a small monkey. The creature climbs into open windows and down chimneys, leaving small-scale chaos in his wake. The creature doesn't try to hurt anyone, and even the things it steals are tiny. It leaves a breeze in its wake, and if your rings or chicken nuggets go missing, this invisible mischief-maker is probably the reason why.

→ It begins after that record-hot day of 107 degrees. The trees in Repose's forests and orchards begin rustling in regular patterns, bending against the wind, as if something tall were passing invisibly through and parting them like water. It happens repeatedly, night and day, for several days in a row. The rustling leaves a cool breeze in its wake for those willing to venture beneath the canopies, and the sound of the whistling wind carries surprisingly far.

→ In the Capital, two students are questioned after they're heard bragging that they made a teacher's car crash into a guardrail. The problem is that they claim they did it without ever touching the car. Everyone, of course, knows that's just talk, but the students don't return to classes. When their friends inquire, their parents tearily inform them that they cannot discuss it. Rumor has it, though no one knows where the rumor started, that the students have been taken to that creepy SuperMax prison on the edge of town.

→ The scientists that drive in from the Capital call it bioluminescence. They assure residents that the glow that covers Repose's lakeshore is the result of an enzymatic reaction, and perfectly harmless. Brave swimmers quickly start to report that the water is beautifully cool, clear of algae and gunk, and that a feeling of peace washes over them whenever they take a dip. It takes a few days for the lake to become crowded with residents and visitors alike, and they all report the same feeling of peace and tranquility from being in the water. Pretty impressive for an enzyme.

→ They say a poetess drowned herself by the pond beyond Main Street. After the flood of 1908, says the local rumor mill, she weighed down her skirts and waded in after being rejected by her lover. She's been sighted lingering at the edge of the water at 2 a.m. this month, and if you approach her she'll recite one of her many works and give you romance advice suited to Miss. Havisham.

→ In the Capital, the local university is enjoying winter in July, and there’s not a snowblower in sight. They're calling it a "weather phenomenon," air quotes mandatory, and meteorologists are flocking to the school campus, where a comfortable, light snow has begun and continues for two weeks. For two weeks, summer is interrupted by snow angels, snowball fights and sledding, and campus is crowded with non-students enjoying the temporary relief. The incident is isolated to school grounds, and those with the right (or left) ear to the ground might hear rumors of a student on summer break up to mischief around Hall Way.

→ A traveling roadside museum pops up between Repose and the Capital, and though the tent itself is gray and fraying at the edges, what's inside is definitely a draw. Foot traffic starts out slow, but cars line the highway by Sunday despite the heat, and they've all come to see the supposed carcass of a real vampire. Reporters aren't allowed in, no matter how much they beg the strange old owner for admittance, and paying visitors are treated to a dark, stuffy tent and the richly-garbed corpse of a mummified gentleman. Bad tea is served afterward in a poorly-assembled replica of a Victorian entertainment. The whole stunt would be unimpressive, if the animals surrounding the tent weren't being drained of all their blood nightly.

→ The CARNEM clinic is offering $300 to anyone willing to do a day of testing on a new product, a robotic exoskeleton to provide 'workers' with additional strength and durability in high-stress situations. Something like this.

→ The ghost of the man who built the Repose movie theatre in the 1920s, a wealthy local who also built one of the mansions out by the lake, died in 1934. This week is the anniversary of his death. No matter what summer blockbuster the staff at the theatre try to show this week, the projectors keep showing movies from 1934 - and only 1934. The staff have even gotten into it by dressing in 1930s costume, and are offering free admission to anyone who does the same.

→ The Capital Natural History Museum has long been rumored to contain secret rooms, hidden by clever clockwork mechanisms that could be revealed by the touch of a button. The Museum has officially announced the discovery of one of the original mechanical switches, verifying the existence of this strange clockwork for the first time. They will be showcasing the transformation of the main hall, a dark and heavy room with red carpet and wood walls, into an all-glass conservatory. They'll only be displaying this miraculous piece of machinery for a week to prevent wear and tear on the mechanism. Treasure hunters and historians alike are now scouring the museum for more working examples of the building's original switches.