You catch your breath and winter starts again, and everyone else is springbound...
In the alley behind the Empress Theatre, there's the loud crack of a pistol, easily mistaken for a car backfiring or something else entirely unnotable. There's no reason to be alarmed about it, either - if anyone happens to poke their head into the alley, they'll just see Harry, tucking his pistol away and moving forward to inspect a small leather trenchcoat he'd draped over a trashcan.
...Harry has a very hands-on method of testing things.
In the Conrad, the door of the medical room is hanging open as Grace flips through the records of wanderers, frowning to herself. Her file cabinet is broken. Nothing seems to be missing, and she doesn't know what anyone would want with the medical records of the Conrad's wanderers anyway. Maybe the Rift is just screwing with her somehow.
Claire is standing in the park, not far from the Organization Headquarters. It's a cold, cloudy day, threatening snow, and the park's quieter and less crowded than usual in this weather. Claire really appreciates that fact, though she still has to take slow, deep breaths, fight to construct something approaching calm. She doesn't particularly want to be outside, but there's only so long she can lurk in Topher's domain before she loses her mind.
Gale is standing on the pier, staring out across the water with a dark expression. It's not a particularly nice day to be out on the pier, with the icy wind off the water, but it does guarantee him a little privacy, room to think.
At a small diner near the police station, Casey is brooding over coffee and... not eating. She swears she was hungry a few hours ago, but after staring at crime scene photographs for a while... suddenly she's not so much, anymore. The instant chainsaw enters the category of "possible murder weapons", you're pretty much screwed on the appetite front.
...Harry has a very hands-on method of testing things.
In the Conrad, the door of the medical room is hanging open as Grace flips through the records of wanderers, frowning to herself. Her file cabinet is broken. Nothing seems to be missing, and she doesn't know what anyone would want with the medical records of the Conrad's wanderers anyway. Maybe the Rift is just screwing with her somehow.
Claire is standing in the park, not far from the Organization Headquarters. It's a cold, cloudy day, threatening snow, and the park's quieter and less crowded than usual in this weather. Claire really appreciates that fact, though she still has to take slow, deep breaths, fight to construct something approaching calm. She doesn't particularly want to be outside, but there's only so long she can lurk in Topher's domain before she loses her mind.
Gale is standing on the pier, staring out across the water with a dark expression. It's not a particularly nice day to be out on the pier, with the icy wind off the water, but it does guarantee him a little privacy, room to think.
At a small diner near the police station, Casey is brooding over coffee and... not eating. She swears she was hungry a few hours ago, but after staring at crime scene photographs for a while... suddenly she's not so much, anymore. The instant chainsaw enters the category of "possible murder weapons", you're pretty much screwed on the appetite front.