Rooms

To the man in the room that kept getting smaller...

I'm sorry. That was inappropriate of me and I'm truly sorry.

[ETA Locked to Sam A, Neil D, and Cris M]

Let's just get this all out on the table so we can reiterate how horrible I am.

Sam. I nearly slept with Cris. But apparently I make him want to crawl out of his skin. Just thought you should know that.

Neil. See above. I'll be out if and when you want to talk to me again. You know how to get hold of me. If, after that, you don't want to...

Anyways.

Love,
Meredith
(aka the woman who left her husband and kid and goes into dreams uninvited.)

[She makes no further responses to the post and has, in fact, left her journal/phone at the Venetian penthouse, laying on the counter.]

[Comm: Tony S, Steve R, Selina K, and anyone else looking for Banner]

[A little too loud.] He's gone north.

Who: Penny Ross then a phone call to Clementine Murphy
What: Too much whiskey
Where: hole-in-the-wall bar in the Bronx
When: A few hours after this
Warnings: Sink puking. Classy stuff going on here.

( Bad Decisions )

[Death]

I never had the desire to know what I would dream about if I did dream.

[Stephanie B.]

After one of these, I understand it's typical to check on people.

[Public, from "Dot"]

Hello?

[Phone call to Marta. The second that she picks up:]

For the love of god, tell me that you're fucking alright. Both of you.

[Liam, after hesitation]

You make it?

[Sam]

Honey?

[Helena]

No catastrophic vehicular accidents this time around, that's got to count as an improvement.

[Jack C, Clementine M - individually]

Okay?

[From the hotel lobby.]

Ring!

[Backdated reveal because hitting post is usually essential to posting]

( Editor's Cut )

[After this.]

[call to meredith j.]

[Ring, ring, ring until she picks up.]

Perhaps in our next dream, there will not be paint on the sheets.

[The dreaming didn't bother him none, he'd had worse nightmares and even being a man who'd drowned wasn't so bad. Graham felt like not much could be, because he'd seen worse, he'd lived it, and now not much fazed him. Joy was left with Penny, cheerfully waving her chubby fists, and he set off to the hotel to find this Vegas door and wherever Shane was staying. He was dressed casual, but he'd misjudged (or just not considered, plain and simple) the Vegas weather; it was hot. But he caught a cab and walked the rest of the way, only getting a little turned around a couple times, out to the lake house Shane's sister owned.

It was nice. Pretty. Sweat trickled down his spine and made his shirt stick, but he could still appreciate the beauty of a place by the lake. He had a shovel and a bottle of vodka, like Shane'd asked, one tucked into a pack slung over his shoulder and the other he just carried. Graham made his way around the house to the back, looking for signs of his friend and the racetrack he was supposedly building.] Shane?

[Gwen S]

Hi, Gwen. How are you?

My research is not very good at helping me figure out how to get the smell of decay and rotten flesh out of my hair.

And skin.

And my shoes.

Might someone here have some advice?

[Locked to Victor F]
Could I prevail upon you to meet with me?

[Louis D]

So was that bad for you? It was strange for me.

[Wren H]

Are you alright?

[Locked]

Are you alive?

Hold on, I've nearly got déjà vu. Perhaps I phrased it 'did you live', the last time?

[After waking up with a pounding headache and hiding for the better part of a day.]

Yeah, didn't fucking miss those.

[Text to Aubrey R]

Are you okay? Mingmei is back!

[Locked to Jules B]

Are you okay?