Rooms

Who: Cerise & Elliot, followed by Cris.
What: Meeting with the serial killer.
Where: St. Raymond's Cemetery, NY. Marvel.
When: Pre-dawn. As agreed upon with Elliott, and after her meeting with Cris.
Warnings: Possible violence. Will update as needed.


( The cemetery was in the Bronx, so it was already close by. )

[After having dropped Zoe off at Cris', but before setting out for her meeting with Ian's demon spawn.]

A pickure allbum showed up in my male
Sumbody missing?

[TEXT MESSAGE]

need you need you
hello
now
need you
now
now

WERE MY DAMM KNIFES??

[She's downstairs on Cris' couch when she gets the hotel's idea of a Halloween trick. It's a photograph, one of an old man she doesn't recognize. She takes a picture of the picture, and she posts it to the journals, with some writing beneath it.]

Does anyone know who this viejo is? I got his pic today, and I got no idea-

[The writing cuts off messy. Seconds later, the photo is abandoned on Cris' couch, and Sam (young Sam) is nowhere to be found.]

[After this, she copies Martin's suggestion word for word. There is punctuation and everything.]

Don't wanna be alone right now.

[She makes it quick] Bsy?

I've always despised the phrase "like father, like son".

I do not want to be like my father.

I want to be more than my father could ever dream of.

[Locked to Cerise S & Cris M]
[After this.]

They just called me on down to 1PP. Either of you got any notion why?

[After this, the post is deleted.] [Locked separately to Louis D, Daniel W, Penny R, Trystan C, Cerise S, Marta F, Seven M, Joseph W, Peggy C, Luke H, & Clem M (all including Sam A)]
Who are you?

[In-person: Sam A/Cris M]
[From their booth, he just taps his iPad with two fingers.] Done.

I'm looking for a doctor. A surgeon. Something like that.

[Just a few short minutes after hanging up with Cris here, and her handwriting is almost illegibly messy.]

[Public][Locked, "Ian anon"]
ian?

[She locks it down after the first few comments manage to get in.]

[Locked to Cris M. after this.]
Can u talk?

Who: Cerise
What: Getting to work.
When: After this.
Warnings: Language?

( People died. )

[Wednesday morning, a package finds itself delivered to Cerise Stone, in care of the Homicide Division of the NYPD. Delivered by a private courier, the package holds no return address or markings of any kind to show where it might have originated. A small white box, approximately the size of a post card and only two inches deep. Inside the box is a fluid-filled plastic bag, and the tiniest bit of investigation will find that there are two human eyes floating in the liquid. Recently removed, an unremarkable shade of brown for the iris. There is no note, nothing else in the box other than the plastic bag. If swept for fingerprints, nothing will be found inside, and on the outside, the only ones found belong to that of the courier.]

[After this, she tries.]

You goin to tell me who had in common back in Vegas
or ignore me again and say nothin?

[After this.]

[Group Lock]
Its gettin worse
We need a plan

Who: Cerise & Zoe
What: Morning routine.
Where: Home.
When: Recently.
Warnings: Some darkness.

( Its domestic and strange. )

I can't be the only one wishing for a do over button.

[She just calls this one on in, and she don't stick 'round long. But, ultimately, she reckons hitting the journals might be called for, seeing as Martin seemed real worried it was one of the folks on there doing the killing.]

[Group: Cerise S, Cris M]
Got another one of them girls. Queens this time. Figure it might take a spell for the local precincts to figure the M.O. for the same. No insult to NYPD, course.