Repose

[The case of the bodies in the woods was a strange one. The victims had been deceased before they were mauled, so the authorities assume wildlife is to blame there, but that's not what's curious. What's curious is the fact that the killing was sloppy or hasty; or perhaps just the dumping of the corpses was—all IDs remain on the victims: wallets, phones, credit cards. There's evidence that the cause of death for both was a close-range gunshot wound, but until the anonymous tip comes in, police aren't sure where the bodies have been relocated from.

In the alleyway behind the secondhand book shop and the art store, casings are found. Just two. And after families are notified, the police learn of the sudden disappearance of an Irishman from the hotel. He is wanted for questioning, and anyone with information is encouraged to call the sheriff's office.

Those with dogs are once again advised to keep them on a lead at all times.]

[Encrypted lock to AEGIS: Cat C, Flash T, Isaiah B, Felicity H]
[After a official email from the Commander announces Steve's position as captain, and after Steve sends them all his own (heavily-redacted and not by him) military case file, beginning with notes from 1941 and his failed attempts at joining up with the army.]

I thought I'd best introduce myself. I'm Steve. AKA Captain Liberty, if any of you are old enough to know him. Have we all ever gotten together anywhere as a group?

[Locked to Janus A]
How're you doing, Allen? You've been quiet.

[Locked to Atticus M]
I bit the bullet, so to speak.

[Locked to Matt D]
[After seeing this.]

Hey, Teddy, sorry about the delay.

[Locked separately; Faol C, Sharon C]
I've heard you've been in talks about joining up with Project AEGIS, correct?

[Locked to Michael C]
Hi, Michael.

[Public, Anonymously (not visible to Etain).]
[After this delivery, and she tries POORLY to hide her writing pattern, she really does.]

Ok, so what's the deal with people coming back after they die? And is there a way to kill demons like forever?

[No further replies from her after this.]

[Public]

It almost feels like Halloween is a bit redundant in Repose, hmm?

[May L.]

Are you well?

[Sasha J]

You must have thought I wouldn't notice.

[After his conversation with Atticus.]

[Text: Sam A]
Hey, mami.

ETA: [Locked to Atticus M]
[Insteada responding here, he just posts anew.]

Is that possible? Being too lazy to resent yourself?

And I got another questiona you.

[A charity gala in the Capital went very badly this week. A sniper opened fire on the guests at the height of the evening's festivities, killing two inside the building and two members of the 'security team' in a building across the street. The suspect then drove off in pursuit of three party guests, including a reputable member of the local business community, and ran the car off the end of the docks into the water. The passenger's bodyguard was killed, but he and his driver survived.

Witnesses report seeing the 'eminent citizen' exchanging gunfire with the suspect chasing him. Strangely enough, this goes unmentioned in official police reports, as do the citizen's ties to the Russian mob. The suspect has yet to be identified, though rumors have linked him to two earlier shootings. These include the assumed team that took out Russian mobsters at a tea room last month. Anyone with information is encouraged to come forward.]

[After this.] Hey. Want to come over later?

It's never reassuring when the doctors don't have answers for you.

Who: jude coleman, gwen reilly and open to oliver king.
What: ice-cream commiserations
When: recent
Warnings: nada.

[Ice-cream didn't cure all ills, thank you. It didn't fix the roof and it didn't buy new shoes and it didn't blot out the sight of blood red as cherries on old Persian carpet nor the splatter of it livid crimson against the back of a wall. Everything in moderation, please and poor ice-cream to be considered suitable medicine for such crimes. But ice-cream dug out of the back of the freezer which worked which was better than the fridge which went through fits of temper was best recipe Jude knew for friendships on the ructions and rocks. He padded through from the music room, barefoot on stained wood floors and with a wodge of new (old) sheet-music purchased in a packet from outside a music-store in the Capital that sold by pages rather than by composer. Two spoons, with a third in reserve if the artist showed up. Oliver liked ice-cream plenty enough for company, and company was vetted, practically family (if you expanded definition beyond watch-word).

Jude sat, sheet-music a spread over counter with his legs dangling from counter-top and tapped the back of the spoon against his upper-lip, contemplating a spread of chords that looked impossible.]

[After witnessing this. As Naila A.]

Did you find employment?