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Monday: The Plot Thickens
Who: Gretchen Schleinser, Manuel Tavarez (NPCs), Tayne and Jesse
When: late morning
Where: the church
It was a glorious sunny day on Eldritch Island, and the crossing on the ferry had been reasonable given the fact that the waters around this part of Oregon were notoriously choppy. It was a Monday morning, and instead of being stuck in an office, Gretchen and her co-worker Manuel were making a visit to a former colleague. That should have made her happy, but then Gretchen wasn't in the habit of being happy about much of anything. As Manuel pulled the car up in front of the church where Tayne Peregrine was now the priest, her long nails were tapping out an irritated staccato on the surface of her iPhone. With an exasperated huff, she finally tossed it into her stylish and streamlined purse, selected especially to go with her no-nonsense business suits. "I do not know how these people live out here. There's no fucking cell reception."
Gretchen looked like she should have been a soft, cuddly housewife or maybe a nursery school teacher. She was plump and blonde, long-legged and bosomy and almost uncannily pretty. That first impression was entirely inaccurate. Beneath the lapels of her suit jackets beat the heart of a ruthless barracuda.
When: late morning
Where: the church
It was a glorious sunny day on Eldritch Island, and the crossing on the ferry had been reasonable given the fact that the waters around this part of Oregon were notoriously choppy. It was a Monday morning, and instead of being stuck in an office, Gretchen and her co-worker Manuel were making a visit to a former colleague. That should have made her happy, but then Gretchen wasn't in the habit of being happy about much of anything. As Manuel pulled the car up in front of the church where Tayne Peregrine was now the priest, her long nails were tapping out an irritated staccato on the surface of her iPhone. With an exasperated huff, she finally tossed it into her stylish and streamlined purse, selected especially to go with her no-nonsense business suits. "I do not know how these people live out here. There's no fucking cell reception."
Gretchen looked like she should have been a soft, cuddly housewife or maybe a nursery school teacher. She was plump and blonde, long-legged and bosomy and almost uncannily pretty. That first impression was entirely inaccurate. Beneath the lapels of her suit jackets beat the heart of a ruthless barracuda.