Repose

[Locked to Fabulous Anon from Halloween, as Damian W]
Hello.

Who: Briar and Reece
What: Introductions and Pickup
Where: Her apartment above the shop
When:12/31 after dinner
Warnings/Rating: TBA. Probably PG-13 for language

( I was bold, she was over the worst of it and Gave me gear, thank you dear )

[It happens at the end of the graveyard shift. The reports are scattered and confused. Some witnesses report two vehicles and six men, and some witnesses report six vehicles and twelve men, and some witnesses swear they saw monsters in the woods. Everyone is absolutely positive they heard gunfire. Lots and lots of gunfire. One thing is sure, something happened at the diner, and the results are visible in bloodstains from the back door and headed deep into the wooded area behind the diner. The police don't get very far, however, because the military shows up within minutes. They claim a training exercise got out of hand, and they offer to pay for any losses the incident caused. If there are bodies, no one gets to see them, monster or otherwise, and that's the last the military is willing to say on the subject.]

Who: Felicity H
What: Christmas in the city
When: Earlier.

( Christmas )

Hello. [...] I'm new. Moving in today. Will be managing the house. Fixing anything broken, all that. [...] Name's Matt Devlin. Used to be a vet in town. Can also fix anyone broken, anyone needs stitches, that kind of thing. I'll make myself as useful as I can. Considering the gatecrashing.

[Marta F.]

hey, i'm okay. reaper and i are recovering at the facility. sorry i had to bail on christmas.

[Gwen R.]

hey

[Public]
[To get his mind off shit:]

Anyone get a bad gift from secret santa?

Hello. [...] Don't know how to start with this. Think maybe you and I met before.

Who: Cat & Jack
What: A night at The Rex
Where: The Capital
When: Fuzzy weekend night
Warnings/Rating: Snark?

The Rex was busy. The line outside curled around the corner of the tall, brick building, and bright lights spotlighted the Capital's hopefuls, all dressed in glory and designer duds, all hoping for a peek at the shimmering lights inside the gaming hall.

And inside? Inside was opulence painted decadent. This was no mousy establishment, and the rooms were links in a chain, all red and gold and boasting wealth. The music was quiet, instrumental jazz, and it was the kind of sound meant to live in the background. It was a lull beneath the clinking of ice and the clinking of chips handled by the most powerful hands in the city.

Mobsters, celebrities, socialites, and trouble with hefty pockets, they lined the tables and lined the rooms. The spoke in whispers, heads inclined in plotting unhindered. In back rooms, girls served drinks at private baccarat tables, and Families laid their cards on the table. Outside, fortunes were lost, and fortunes were won. Above-stairs, men and women paid extra for some privacy, and Cat watched it all with the careful eye of a woman who knew the power that slipped through her doors each night.

It was a place constantly in movement. There was no still, and even those whispers and ducked heads spoke of energy brimming. The place was alive, and there was a constant thrum of activity. Even the bar, tucked quietly and dark, was anticipation slumbering. The Rex? It felt like life.

And Cat, who'd ensured Jack's name was on the Guest List? She wasn't wearing plaid.