#penancerp:start

[ssayeager-blog]

@cfsinners

Emile had been in the police station when he had heard about the thunderstorm that had started. Was it a good thing? Certainly not. He much rather would’ve preferred to be able to stay in the station and continue working the case, but he knew that wasn’t going to be possible anymore. Thinking to where he needed to be, he knew where the best place to start going was. Back to his place at the motel. Nodding to himself as he exited the building, he found himself running to the car he had been renting.

Hopping in the driver’s side seat of the Mustang, he started driving towards the small motel room that he had been laying his head in since he had reached the small town. The town didn’t have much, and the motel wasn’t great. But the beds were functional and he had enough room to plan and analyze to his heart’s content. As he continued on his way through the streets, he thought he saw a flash of white... it couldn’t be... could it? He leaned closer to get a better look and blinked a couple times... and they were gone. Strange. Very very strange. He was just about to continue his normal drive when he saw the woman waving her arm desperately. 

Pulling over to the side of the road, he rolled down the tinted window and looked at the woman. Oh yes, the librarian... he had interacted with her once before in the library. She was quite interesting. Though all that fell away as he saw her face. The terror. The tears. “Get in.” The words had been said before he had finished processing her. Waiting to hear the door slam shut, the Agent looked at the woman. “I’m heading back to my motel. We can sit there and you can... you’ll be safe with me. And you can tell me what happened if you want.” Emile stated as he started to press on the gas pedal, speeding towards the motel.

[cacoxthes]

   Visions of sugarplums might as well have been dancing in Penni’s head, though it would be more correct to say visions of the Porter County Carnival. It was habit to let her worries fly free each time the carnival carted its way down the main road to settle upon the expanse of land that laid bare for the majority of the year. Things might have been different this year, but it shouldn’t make the carnival any less good for her. Though she couldn’t say fried Oreos were good for her.     The line to the Ferris Wheel was dwindling quickly, and after having been nearly drained by volunteering, she picked up some Oreos to power through a few roller coasters. Besides, she couldn’t let the butterflies and dandelions painted on her cheeks go unnoticed. As she came to near the front, the last two Oreos were shoved into her mouth and the paper tray dipped into a trash can.     She had bought tickets. She knew she had, but as she began sifting through her pockets and billfold, she realized that they must have left. As the man taking the tickets grew impatient, she was then aware that she could not provide any more of a sound but a hum what with the food piled in her mouth.

[oftinsel]

When Tinsley was satisfied that her manicured hand had knocked on the door with just the perfect amount of authority, she took a step back and allowed herself a small smirk. As the minutes passed the expression simmered into one of dignified frustration. She wasn’t unaccustomed to being left on the doorstep and she knew all the tricks her neighbors used to pretend they weren’t home, some so extravagant you’d think she was trying to guilt you into transferring to solar energy.  

However, today wasn’t one of those days Tinsley was going to pretend she believed the house was vacant. The more the Kleins fell apart with grief over the daughter, the more Tinsley seemed to come together - galvanized by the fact that she was the only one in this town qualified to take them under her wing.

After one last rapt of her knuckles Tinsley projected through the door, “I couldn’t help but noticed you didn’t open the link the Klein’s GoFundMe that I sent you.” At this point, Tinsley was too impatient to curve the condescension in her voice. “I figured you got thrown off by all the links and redirects, and seeing as I have a little time to spare, I’d thought I’d swing by and walk you through it.” She took a step back and waiting, watching the door and silently daring it not to open.

[timothylee]

Cassie Klein Search Party : Event 001

It was both heartening, and intimidating to see how many people had shown up to search for Cassie Klein. Nearly the entire town. His parents were even here. Everyone seemed to care a great deal. He hoped it would be helpful. And then the sea of faces looked at him for what they were supposed to do. That was the intimidating part.

Okay. You can do this.

"Remember to head in a straight line. Focus on the area you've been assigned, and trust that your neighbor will focus on their own. We don't want to repeatedly retread places we've already been and waste time here." Tim explained. "If you don't have your own flashlights we have extras up here, and if you need anything clarified feel free to come speak to me, or any of the other officers about it."

A few people with their own equipment started dispersing to their assigned regions, while a few others went to grab a flashlight, or other things. "Let us know if you see absolutely anything. No matter how insignificant it appears, if it's not native to a creek bed we want to know about it. Thank you for your help everybody."

[cfsinners]

   The last thing Charity had been supposed to do was show up to the vigil. For one she had no place being in that church: she was atheist, or perhaps it was better coined agnostic for her irrevocable god complex. Not to mention she had never been raised Baptist. Her family had been starkly Catholic, despite flexible in attending church. Secondly, the vigil had been so carelessly advertised that she had known about it, meaning that everyone else, including those criminals in white, had to know. But that was exactly the reason she had to go. She had no doubt that some, if not most of the people actually attending were not what they seemed. And she had her bets on Cricket Carroll.     She wasn’t dressed any differently than usual, in one of her admirable tweed suit jackets. In fact, she never appeared to wear anything other than varying shades of brown and black. Perhaps that was why those rumors of being related to the mayor began. Perhaps she should have tried better to blend it, but everyone at least knew of everybody in town. Porter County’s head librarian was no exception. Though she had no idea why a stranger asked her to hand out hymnals.    “Thanks, but I think they’d be much better preforming that job.” She attempted to slide the opportunity off to the person on her right. Though she’d have loved to help with collection donations. 

[ssayeager-blog]

As Émile turned the key in the ignition and killed the engine, a part of him was wondering why the hell he of all people in the Bureau was chosen for this job. He was in the middle of fucking nowhere, trying to aid in an investigation that may have already fallen apart. Though the truth was he knew why they sent him here. It had to be one of two reasons. Either they wanted a reprieve from him, the permanent lonesome fixture in the department. Or, they wanted him to ruin this. If that happened then no one would look twice when he was removed from his position and from the Bureau entirely. He didn’t yell. He just closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again, and then opened the car door.

The conversation at the front desk was quick. They had known to have a room waiting for him. Good. That at least means I’m not entirely out in the cold on this. The thought was quick, but somewhat reassuring. Though the question that was asked just before he had received his key had made him question being there. ‘How long will you be staying with us?’ The answer wasn’t the one he wanted to give. He wanted to have a definite date, a definite time frame, but he didn’t have that.

“As long as it takes.”

Ten minutes later and he was set up in his room, when the next problem presented itself. He was starting to get hungry. Where was food? Downtown. Always the best place to start looking. But he didn’t want to drive. Not right now. He would walk. It would help him to acclimate to the town, see how the town worked and what the layout was. Also it would save on gas. So he grabbed the key to his room, made sure everything was hidden, and checked that he had what he needed. Key to the room, wallet, badge, gun, phone. All checked out. He looked in the mirror for a moment before he left the room. That was odd. He didn’t remember looking so tired before.

It wasn’t too long. He found himself walking through the downtown area of the town before he had expected to. It was... an alright area. Not what he would’ve expected, but functional nonetheless. Seeing a small diner that was open, he walked in and was not at all surprised to see everyone in the room turn to him as the bell above the door chimed. That was expected in small towns. They were all wondering who he must be, what he wanted, why he was in all black... he let them wonder, and he found a small booth in the corner he could sit in. As he looked through the menu, he heard the bell ring again. He didn’t look up. But he heard the footsteps, and he felt the presence. Whether the presence was someone who had already been in the diner or someone who had just entered he didn’t know. But he looked up at them, and unsmiling asked them a question.

“Is there a problem?”

[cacoxthes]

   What sun that Penni noticed rising behind the cruiser when she and the officers arrived on scene was hidden behind the forest by the time the search both began and reached the shoreline.    She hadn’t much experience with Duck Creek Grove, although it wasn’t far from the thick part of the forest she had explored as a kid. She knew that the murky water could hide anything in its depths, despite being well aware that it wasn’t very deep and neither was the creek very wide. She supposed there was something to be happy about there.    The bags under her eyes prominent as she turned her back to the stream, the blonde couldn’t help an old habit of biting her nails. They were short from years of it, but at least it made everything far more accessible than longer nails did.     Behind the treeline, a couple people labored as they searched and she couldn’t help when her voice filled with hope on its way to reach them, “Have you found anything? Maybe even just a footprint? Or, I don’t hair, strand of hair?”