Repose

✨i'm back!✨i missed each & every1 of u!✨except the new ppl, idk you sorry.

Is there a local information office? Or a tourism desk?

[Locked - Cat C]

Hey, barkeep.

[Monday afternoon brings a slap of signs on the front doors of The Senator.

'Closed for a private event. Teenager appreciation day (or something). Regular hours tomorrow.'

The exterior lights remain off all night, but the interior lights are on. If there is some event going on, it's exceedingly dull and underpopulated. There are no cars in the parking lot, and it's obscenely quiet inside.]

[After this makes the news.]

[Carver A]

We cannot do this on our own.

[Leena B]

Have you been keeping up with the news?

[Juliet J]

So how familiar with supernatural shit are you?

[Late Monday afternoon, there's a... disturbance at the lake. Swirling water, cloudy from the disturbance and impossible to see if one were to try to peer into the depths. Waves lap at the shores and any boats unlucky enough to be on the water are rocked to and fro. But the disturbance doesn't last long, a half hour at most. By early evening, the lake is still once more.

Any who investigate the soft ground at the shoreline might be lucky enough to spot the footprints that lead from the water. Bipedal but unlike the print of any human. The prints are only there until the water washes them away in the evening.]

[The mission, such as it was, was a pretty straightforward thing. Protect the civilians, get them clear of anything glowing and sputtering its own death throes over and over again, and give them adequate precautions to stay safe. The only thing that made it complicated was the lack of civilians left to protect.

And the pitch darkness, and the sound of screeching echoing formlessly down metal hallways, with no good source to pinpoint its location. And the uncomfortable feeling that he had met the man beside him before.

Matt said nothing at all when they first broke off from Cat. He knew she'd be meeting someone, but it went against every instinct he had, letting her go off on her own. He'd seen that thing creeping inside her leg, and she was like him, he didn't doubt. If there was any chance something was going to wind its way around her brain - just thinking about it, metal tendrils in gray matter, made his fingers twitch - then she'd end it. And she'd be alone. Which wasn't right.

The man at his side carried the sheet of metal he'd since identified as a door as if it was typical. He had experience fighting with one, seemed like. Who trained with a shield anymore? It was like there was an itch on the inside of his skull he couldn't scratch.

The hallway stretched ahead, unlit except by those low, blue lights.]

Know Cat?

I'd like to take a poll as to whether doughnuts at Sunday service would up attendance numbers. Does this seem like a productive measure? Or do I purchase them regardless and feed them to the birds if no one does show?