Repose

Ghosted by my Santa brunch date, and the wolves are out of the bag. And here I thought this town couldn't be more of a mess.

[Attempting to lock to Marta F.]

Can we talk?

[Text to Dick G]

Hey. It's Misha. You text me back when you get this, honey, please.

[Private to Misha B.]

Hey kid, you holding up?

[Muerte]

Greeting from the chaos.

Who: Mary, Patrick, and Adrian
What: Drinking!
Where: The Cat

[Adrian was outside the Cat with a cigarette, and as far as he knew, he was waiting on his brother. He wouldn't mind the company of one or several additional people - he was just in the mood to drink and forget that everything was a fucked up nightmare.

His eyes were dark in the shadows thrown by the lights in the parking lot, but they were clear, no foggy white pall. He felt fine, mostly. The Capital was a mess, but he just wasn't going back there. He'd seen someone get mowed down by a car, and people running from catastrophes of every kind - broken shop windows, wailing sirens, blood on the sidewalk. Not his scene. Whatever was happening there wasn't something he could solve, especially not when, at second glance, some of the shop windows seemed to mend themselves, and the people disappear.

How could anybody fix something that they weren't even confident was real? At least the weirdness in Repose was the quiet kind. So people were forgetting shit. At least they weren't jumping out windows or shooting each other. Today, anyway.]