Repose

[Once she's calmed a little, but still mostly out of it or whatever.]

[Locked to Manning T]
hey we don't know each other but iris says you're fam from way back. can i get your help pls. pls.

[Locked Meredith J]
hey how'd you know?

[Locked to Lou D]
be nice to cris i screwed up ok me.

[Locked to Iris M]
sorry.

[Locked to Cris M]

[There's some hesitation in reaching out, but she's not picking up on anything clearly. Maybe it's the fog, maybe it's the headache that's been lingering for the last day. But worry knots at her stomach, so she does the only thing she can-]

Did you find her?

Is she alright?

Are you alright?

[Locked to Cris M]

[She's been picking up on this, and if it had only been a moment or so, she might have written it off, but it keeps coming, and Sam's thoughts keep getting more and more erratic. She's spent enough time with the other woman to know this isn't good, but it's not as if she's in a position to help.]

I think Sam might be in need of your help, Cris. I think something's wrong.

[Sent to Deputy Stephanie M.]
[A very harmless Carnival ticket. No note.]

[Meredith J.]

Have time for a reading?

[Public]

I could have sworn I heard Latin chanting at the church, yesterday. That's not typical for a small town, is it?

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.

[Sam hated the cold, yeah? The weather had warmed a little, tricking her into thinking it was going to stay 60 or something, and now it was 40 degrees and bitter cold. It was as good a time as any for that soup Mere had promised, yeah? And she felt responsible for the redhead in some weird way, even if Mere had settled out in the carnival, with a bunch of people that were hella weird.

But Sam knew carnivals or whatever, and she'd worked that one for a while outside New York. The one Cris had come to, yeah? After that first night at that party and, yeah, this place Meredith chose was kind of like that place. Sam knew they did all the weird carny stuff, and all the same stuff was within reach, just like it'd been back then. But Sam wasn't looking for any of that. She just wanted to get warm and check on Mere, and then she could go home and keep dealing with her own chaos.

She'd seen Louis on the town forum by now, yeah? Knew he was there, which wasn't surprising or anything, not with Cris and Daniel in town, Iris too, and it was like the past was closing in. She didn't like it, because the past made it harder to pretend, yeah? And maybe that explained why she got out of bed early, layered leggings with t-shirt, sweater, jacket and slipped out quiet. Two sets of mittens, and two pairs of thick woolen socks in old Docs. Her place was right off the highway, and it was nothing to hitch out to the carnival.

She asked for directions to Mere's trailer or whatever, and she rubbed hands together and made her way there.]

[Locked to Sam A]

I've made soup if you want to come have a bowl sometime.

[Public]

This sort of cold just calls for a roaring fire, doesn't it?