Ina Holt "No bother. I...I'll be needin' some directions too. Would ya'll happen to know of a good clothin' store on this here street?" The girl said, in her ridiculous accent. Ina examined her, noticing a missing glove. "I don't know what kind of clothing you're after," She said vindictively, her more judgmental side brought out by the girl's "hick-ish" demeanor, "But if you need another glove, Carving & Crafts sells nice leather ones. I can show you if you'd like." I still need to nick some tools from that place anyway. She turned to the bearded hobo lurking over their shoulders, her lip beginning to curl, "And where do you need to be?"
Brian pulled for the picture of the building that he had gotten in the mail.......that weird Berkle letter. "Do you know where this building is?" He asked curiously. He could feel his power starting to kick in. But so far he was managing to keep it bottled up. He just wanted this girl to answer his question and then he'd be gone. He didn't want to feed the monster. He really hoped she knew.
Baley Warsaw "I don't know what kind of clothing you're after," She said vindictively. "But if you need another glove, Carving & Crafts sells nice leather ones. I can show you if you'd like." Despite the girls uneven tone, Baley sized her up as being nice enough. All town-folk had the similarity of being uppity about their modern lives. "If ya could, that'd be..." Baley started to only get interrupted by the bum. Baley rolled her eyes. Town-folk also had the similarity of being as rude as two bulls fighting over a heifer. "Do you know where this building is?" the bum said, holding up something. From where she stood she couldn't see what it was. Though the warning signs were clear in her mind, she drew closer. He was holding a picture...a familiar one, the exact one she'd gotten in the mail earlier. "Why ya be headin' there for?" Baley asked, pointing at the picture with her gloved finger.
Camille: Freezers and Freaks Ben pulled out his cell phone and dialed Martha. "Hey, Martha. Can you send one of the squad cars down and start running plates at the Red Owl. Something's up." Camille pushed her glasses back up as Ben snapped orders into his phone. "What was that all about? Are we still on for supper or did you get called back in?" "Just gathering up a little more information on all these outsiders." He said as the first items slid along the checkout belt. "No way I'm missing out on your grandma's taco recipe." The scanner beeped and the cashier smiled, revealing a mouthful of orthodontic work. "Hey, Officer Hanson. Miss Camille. Crazy happenings around here today." "Indeed." Came Camille's noncommittal reply. "What, with all these tourist and the crime wave." "Nope. Not that at all, Miss Camille." The high schooler grinned. "Bandi Preweitt's pipes are frozen clean through. Just had it from Merv, the plumber. He told me all about it when he came through my line ten minutes ago. How do pipes freeze in this heat?" "Maybe she left the door to the walk-in freezer open." Camille replied, her face a study of innocence, but her eye glittered with mischief. "What would she need with a walk-in freezer?" The cashier asked, oblivious to the sarcasm. "To store the bodies of her victims in, of course." Ben said, unable to resist playing along. The woman deserved some comeuppance for what she had done to Camille. "Or didn't you hear about the guy they found in the alley just off State?" "Seriously?" The kid prodded. "They really found a body?" "Yup." Ben concurred as the scanner continued to beep. Several other baggers had wandered over to help, as well as eavesdrop. "Just remember you didn't hear any of this from me. Got it?" The spellbound teens nodded in mute agreement. Ben carefully tucked the bags in around Camille, noting that she didn't take up much space. He had seen fifth graders who were bigger, and a whole lot meaner, now that he thought about it. It was a wonder she had gotten this far in life without being crushed. "So that will be $105.89, today." The cashier said with another flash of dental artistry. Ben flinched slightly. "$105.89? Seriously?" "The dog food accounts for about half of it." Camille replied. "I'd take care of it, but my wallet is with my bag which is at home." Irritation rang out clear and true in her tone. She hated being beholden to anyone, even Ben. "Don't start with me, Cami." Ben said, heading her off. "You were at risk of bleeding to death. Making sure I brought your bag along wasn't high on my priority list. Besides, I owe Radish." Camille blinked, utterly confused by the turn in Ben's logic. "You owe my dog? For what?" "For keeping you safe." Ben stated simply as he handed his card to the cashier. "Oh..." Was all Camille managed to say as she went bright pink. The cashier hand the card and the slip to Ben, who tucked them into his wallet. Pushing the cart back out into the parking lot he said. "In a roundabout way, Radish was the catalyst that saved your life today. A bag of dog food seems like the least I can do. Besides you're cooking tonight not me..." The rest of his sentence trailed off as he caught sight of two girls and what looked like a harassing bum. "What the hell?" The knight errant genes kicked in. Hard. "Wait here." He called over his shoulder to Camille. "I'll be right back." "Not like I can really go anywhere..." She muttered, but he was already gone. Ben sprinted across the lot in time to hear the bum guy ask. "Do you know where this building is?" "Is there a problem here, ladies?" He asked in his best Officer Hanson tone.
Brian beamed brightly at the cop. He was so happy to see a cop. He'd know where the building is. But.......damn his power was starting to kick in. He needed to get arrested or get to that building fast. "No not at all officer......I'm just really trying to get arrested." Brian stated flatly. "I think this building is were the police are gonna bust me. But now that your here.....you can take me in right?" Brian asked happily holding up the picture. He was so happy....no more hurting people......him and Wolfgang would be locked in a cell. He couldn't pass up this chance.
Sheena opened the door to her home and stepped outside for the first time in a long time. "Just to the store and back just to the store and back, I won't even talk to anyone." She wore her same ripped jeans, a tattered white tank top, and a dull soil brown coat. Barely better looking than a homeless person. even her hair was messy and in out of order. she looked at her feet as she walked not making eye contact with anyone, it worked usually, but on this evening she had the displeasure of running into someone as she starred at her feet. she was walking briskly trying not to draw attention and instead went right into officer Ben. she staggered back from hitting the man, but didn't look up at him. "Please move." she calmly said.
Camille: Questions "Please move." she calmly said. Ben stepped back allowing the woman to pass, but kept his attention fixed on the bum. "I think this building is were the police are gonna bust me. But now that your here.....you can take me in right?" Brian asked happily holding up the picture. Carefully, he studied the picture the man held and nearly howled in frustration when he saw Camille hobbling toward him. "I told you to wait with the cart, Camille. You aren't supposed to be up and walking." Camille ignored him and studied the picture in the weird guy's hand. "Hey, I got one of those, too. No return address, just a scrawled envelope and a blank sheet of paper. I think it's the old Berkley Research Institute out on 89." The situation wasn't good. The bum looked to be of two minds. She could keep one busy, at least. Camille, smiled turning on the charm. "You're looking for this place, aren't you? I'm Camille, by the way. What's your name?" She asked, her tone tentative. Ben clicked his walkie-talkie for back up. The squad car circled the parking lot, making careful progress toward them. The last thing they needed to do was spook this guy.
Hey, I got one of those, too. No return address, just a scrawled envelope and a blank sheet of paper. I think it's the old Berkley Research Institute out on 89." Sheena over heard them as she was about to go on, she froze, spinning around she walk right back to the group and a little rudely snagged the picture, she frowned. "So are you the people who sent this nonsense card to me? I'm not intrested in joining your club." she said harshly; tossing it back to the man.
Brian scratched his head. "The name's Gary....no you know what? That was a lie." He said with a chuckle. "My name's Brian and I've been a wanted serial killer for the last two years. Might as well not hide it since I can get arrested today." He said casually. He had completely forgotten his social skill or how to talk to people But he didn't care as long as he could go to a maximum security prison.....he'd be fine. He then frowned at the answer he had gotten. "I was hoping this letter was a ruse to arrest me. I really wanna go to prison. In fact I really don't wanna be talking to you all right now." He said nervously. "B..but its not your fault. The less people I talk to the better and the less I think the better." He didn't tell them that if he thinks to much his other will hear it and fight tooth and nail to come out. He was keeping his power under control still but a few more minutes and it would happen..it always happened. "Not sure why I got the letter. Maybe the police want to bust me at this institute?" He thought aloud.
Baley Warsaw She held her left elbow tighter as the officer came up to them. Boy did she desperately need to get to that carving shop. As she turned to voice this to the town girl, the officer suddenly got bombarded by a woman walking down the street. Baley couldn't help but sigh in relief that it hadn't been her again, at least her bad luck hadn't followed her into town. Yet. Was there some sort of parade in town? Another girl had conveniently shown up, sporting bright red hair. There was too many town-folk around...too many bad things could happen. She had to get out of here. Baley turned to leave, but the words of the carrot-top woman made her stop in her tracks. "Hey, I got one of those, too. No return address, just a scrawled envelope and a blank sheet of paper. I think it's the old Berkley Research Institute out on 89." "Ya'll got letters too?" Baley found herself speaking. Besides with her family, she never spoke without being spoken to. Well, curiosity certainly changed her attitude. "I thought it were junk or a tricky prankster...who would send that sort of thing?"
Camille: Hunch about the Bunch "So are you the people who sent this nonsense card to me? I'm not interested in joining your club." she said harshly, tossing it back to the man. Ben hauled Camille back out of the woman's path. As Fred, the squad car driver pulled up and addressed the bum. "Hey, buddy. Heard you wanted at lift. We can give you hand with that if you still want us to." Camille pulled free of Ben's hold, and handed the picture back to the unkempt man. Quickly she cast a glance around the odd assembly, her gaze falling on the two girls and followed a hunch. "Did either of you receive one of these, as well?"
Shyla Shyla parked her motorcycle in a space in front of Red Owl. She loved this place. They had the best frozen pizza. Then she saw the strangest sight. Camille, Officer Hanson, a country looking girl, a kid who looked like she should be in school, a hobo, and to top it all off the woman whom she had saved not two hours earlier. She debated whether of not to go over for several seconds. They all seemed to be discussing some-sort of picture, but she couldn't tell it was from here. Finally curiosity got the better of Shyla and she walked over to the group just as a squad car pulled up. This sidewalk was getting busy.Then she saw the picture. The same exact one she'd gotten in the mail and the handwriting on the envelope looked the same as well. "Did either of you receive one of these, as well?" Camille asked. "I did." Shyla said, piping up behind her. "It's weird."
Brian sighed. "I'd prefer not to put your lives in danger." He said holding up his hand. "Look I don't really care if we go to this place or not. The sooner I go to prison the better!" He exclaimed. "Hey Police guy....arrest me. I'm a serial killer. I have confessed" He said holding out his hands to Ben waiting to be cuffed. Brian then looked thoughtful and then started beaming. Anyone could see the clear sadness in his eyes. "Better yet....shoot me." He said pointing at Ben's gun belt. "Say I tried to attack you and these girls as the excuse. But make sure to shoot me in the head and make sure I'm dead." He said pointing at his skull. He couldn't lie he was curious about the letter. But the safety of others came first and the sooner he was dead the better off the world would be. Brian winced in pain as he started getting a headache...damn Wolfgang was catching on.
Camille: Rough Ground Officer Wrinkler, aka, Fred got out of his car and slowly approached Brian. "Brian, right? That's what you said. Since you want us to arrest you, can you just climb in the car?" The older cop asked, as he pulled out a set of handcuffs. Camille bit back a retort, knowing it would be easier just to tackle the guy, but the situation was ticklish and she didn't want Ben landing in the middle of it. Her own protective attitude startled her as she revved her senses. She felt the pulse, the pull...The steady, continuous flow. Ben stepped into the fray again, addressing Brian. "Okay. Brian. You want my help you have to work with me." He said. "You seem to know the drill, so I need you to turn around so I can put these on you." Brian sighed. "I'd prefer not to put your lives in danger." He said holding up his hand. "Look I don't really care if we go to this place or not. The sooner I go to prison the better!" He exclaimed. "Hey Police guy....arrest me. I'm a serial killer. I have confessed" He said holding out his hands to Ben waiting to be cuffed. It cannot be said Officer Hanson was ever slow on the uptake. In two clicks he had the cuffs on Brian and passed him off to Wrinkler, who slammed the squad door shut.
"Sheena stared at them for a moment, then relaxed. "Fuck it, I'm going, don't got time for this." and with that she began to shamble off Still she couldn't help but look back at the hobbo, poor man wasn't unlike her at all. "if God listened to my prayers, I would send one for you." she whispered before tunring around and continuing her life of solitude
Brian nodded in relief and turned around as Brian cuffed him. He was smiling. "Thank you....you don't know how much this means to me. A scumbag like me deserves the death penalty." Brian had a clear sad look in his eyes as he thought about his next question. "Excuse me officer. But if you are a dirty cop....would you be willing to take me to the outskirts of town and shoot me dead?" He asked seriously from the Squad car. Brian then scratched his head. And then....uh...oh. Wolfgang had caught on. Brian grabbed his head and started screaming in pain. The pain was so immense that the man who looked like a bum was flopping around like a madman in the back of the car. Tears were streaming down his face. That bastard always hurt him when Brian tried to do the right thing.
Ben and Camille: Outreach Brian nodded in relief and turned around as Brian cuffed him. He was smiling. "Thank you....you don't know how much this means to me. A scumbag like me deserves the death penalty." Brian had a clear sad look in his eyes as he thought about his next question. "Excuse me officer. But if you are a dirty cop....would you be willing to take me to the outskirts of town and shoot me dead?" He asked seriously from the Squad car. Ben pulled out his phone and called dispatch. "Martha, put a call into Doc Albrite. Tell her we've got a tricky situation with a homeless guy. He's being detained a possible murder suspect...Contact the psych ward at County while you're at it. This guy needs more help than we can properly provide. Get on the horn to the Feds and State Police, as well. See if they're looking for anyone matching his description." Quickly he rattled off the required information and added. "He says his name is Brian. And as flaky as it sounds, I think this guy is telling the truth about this." Ben nodded to Officer Wrinkler, who pulled out of the parking lot with the writhing Brian in the backseat. Sirens and light cleared the way. With Brian now in the hands of the proper authorities, he turned his attention back to the gaggle of girls, all of whom, appeared to have received a note and a picture. "Now, would someone please explain to me, what the hell is going on with all these weird notes." Camille shrugged, still spooked by the eerie being known as Brian. "There's not much to tell, Ben. It was shoved through the letter slot with the rest of the mail. I'm guessing it was the same with the others. Personally, I would say someone is trying to spook us." She pushed her glasses back up. "But why all of us, and why now?" She asked with a sweeping gesture that encompassed the assembled group. "Do you think it has anything to do with all these outsiders?" "Maybe." Ben replied, his tone clipped and worried. "But I know one thing for sure. I need to send one of those letters in for analysis." His gaze flipped back to Camille. "You said you still had yours?" Camille nodded. "It's in the drawer back at the Hammer. I opened it just before my knees got really bad. It should still be there." "Good." Ben said. "I can collect it on the way." Then he turned his attention to the rest of the girls. "If the rest of you could drop those letters off, I would appreciate it. We'll try and trace the sender, if possible."
Baley Warsaw She could hardly believe she'd seen a real live criminal get arrested. Wait until her family heard about this, it was the most excitement she'd seen in weeks. He must've done somethin' real bad then, Baley thought as she watched the guy wiggle in the backseat like a frog in boiling water. She hadn't a clue what a serial killer was, but it had killer in the word, so she figured it must be...deadly. The carrot-top called Camille and the officer were exchanging words as the vehicle drove away, fancy lights flashing. "Good." the officer said. "I can collect it on the way." Then he turned his attention to the rest of them. "If the rest of you could drop those letters off, I would appreciate it. We'll try and trace the sender, if possible." "Wait, I got mine right here," Baley said. Holding her bare hand awkwardly, she swung her knapsack onto the ground. With her gloved hand she unlatched the front pocket and pulled out her letter. She cringed at the thought of him seeing her full name, but this was important and no one in town knew of her full name. If no one did, how did it get to her box? "Here ya are, it came this afternoon." She cradled her other arm closer as she handed the letter to the officer. Hopefully they'd just think she had a lame hand...
Evangeline Albrite “Thank you and have a nice day, doctor,” the bank teller said as Eva pocketed a couple hundred dollars and turned to leave. Something strange was going on in town. Eva couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but she felt safer cashing the checks, rather than depositing them in her bank account. If she had to skip town, for whatever reason, it’d be better to have untraceable cash on hand. This town is really going down the drain, Eva thought as she walked the short distance from the bank to the post office. On a distant street corner, in front of the Red Owl, she saw a small gathering of people. Officer Hanson, Camille, and Shyla were in the mix. The little girl who delivers milk was in the group as well, along with the Holt’s daughter. There was also a disheveled woman Eva didn’t recognize and a scruffy man, both of whom were probably out-of-towners. Eva wanted no part of whatever was brewing over there, so she continued on toward the post office, just as a police car prowled past. Once inside, she presented her letter to the postman, Mr. Gregson, a pudgy old fellow with a blue US Postal Service cap perched jauntily on his grizzled old head. “Nope. Never seen it before,” he said as he adjusted his thick glasses and turned the letter over, studying it from all angles. “Are you sure?” Evangeline asked, her fingers tapping anxiously on the countertop. “It definitely didn’t come through here,” the old man said. “The handwriting’s so bad, I can hardly tell who it’s addressed to. I’d have tossed it in the bin with the rest of the undeliverables.” He gestured to a basket behind the counter, filled with damaged mail with missing or illegible labels. “So you didn’t deliver this?” Eva said, which the man confirmed with a nod. “So that means someone went in my mailbox… which is a felony, is it not? That’s a violation of federal law.” “Well, technically, but…” Gregson offered the letter back to her. “It’s probably just some kids playing a game, like a scavenger hunt or something,” he chuckled. “Maybe if you find the building in that photo, there’ll be a surprise inside.” The sound of wailing sirens echoed through the tiny post office. Eva and Gregson both looked to the windows as a police car drove by, heading away from the crowd she’d seen. With a slight scowl, Eva tucked the letter into her pocket and looked to the postman. “I don’t like surprises,” she said flatly, “but thank you for your help. If any other players in this ‘game’ show up, please give me a call. There maybe the other recipients in town.” As Eva emerged from the post office, she noticed the crowd was short one scruffy bum. I’d better get back to the office before something else absurd happens, she thought, walking briskly toward her car, which was still parked near the bank. She was only a few steps from the car door when her phone rang. It was Martha, from the police station. According to her, Officer Wrinkler had just apprehended a man who claimed to be a wanted serial killer. He was on his way to the local police station to be identified, processed, and held until someone from County could figure out whether he was telling the truth or not. According to Officer Hanson, the man exhibited suicidal behavior and wanted to be put down. “I’m on my way,” Eva said dispassionately as she ended the call.
Teddy Jones Teddy pulled out a few quick stretches to loosen himself for the repair, and turned to Bill who was munching away on his seventh donut. Only one animal comparison came to mind. “I’ll close up Bill, I’m going to need some privacy on this hog.” Ted said. “Why don’t you visit the old watering hole?” “I probably will. Gonna need some good old Jack Daniels to wash these donuts down.” Bill turned to leave, but his hazy memory grabbed hold. “Oh... there was something I meant to tell ya...” It took a while, with a few head scratches, mumbles, and a bored stare from Ted, but the old timer finally grasped it. “Oh yea, there was a letter sent for you, so I put it in your book.” A venomous glare fell upon Bill and he was quick to amend it. “I didn’t look inside it, I swear Teddy. You know I’d never try to betray your trust like that.” He gave the youngster a smile to melt away the insecurities and bounded down the road. Ted, now all on his own in the shadow of the afternoon sun, proceeded to close the garage doors to onlookers. Before the door had clanged shut he was by his desk, fiddling with a small white letter. He tore the paper tentatively, already suspicious of the fact there was no address, no stamp, no information, just the words ‘Teddy Jones’. His fingers tiptoed into the letter, to reveal a black and white picture of a building and the word ‘Berkle-’ on the back. Other than that the envelope was empty. With no address it had to be delivered by hand, so Bill might have been handed it. As creepy as it was, Teddy didn’t really care and casually tossed it on the desk. Now was the time to do his job for the biker, and he would at least give him the benefit of the doubt by checking the carburetor. He fiddled and tinkered for while, biting loosely on his lip. Admittedly it was a little worn, but a quick clean would jazz it right up. The problem had to be the battery. He knew it. He could feel it. Teddy spread a hand towards the powerbox in the corner of the room, and narrowed his eyes on it. Slowly, his hand began to shake and he bit his lip once more, willing the box to provide what he needed. Soon his whole body shook, beads of sweat ran down his face and suddenly a crack of lightning burst from the powerbox, surging across the garage into his palm. And then another. And another. And then the tap fully opened. The whole room resonated with blinding white and yellow, the beams flooding towards the mechanic. Loose strands of electricity broke off to touch the walls, tools and vehicles, with the brightness covering everything from view. And as quickly as it had come the power was gone. All the lights in the garage had gone out, save for the human shaped lantern standing in the middle. Teddy’s fizzed and crackled gold, and his hair had transformed from jet black to static blond. He could feel his blood zipping through his body, charging through every vein and organ. All the while more loose sparks flashed from his skin, hitting everything and anything around him. “Might overdone it a bit, Teddy.” He jested. “Time to supercharge this thing.” Once more he spread his palm towards the battery and sent wave after wave of electricity into its depleted reserve. He pushed harder, shaking under the immense power. The battery started to glow - a little too much. Way too much in fact. With so much energy packed inside, it had to go somewhere. Boom! Teddy flew backwards across the room and smashed into the desk, putting him down for the count. Tools had blown in all directions and the bike parts shattered into pieces, with the garage doors and walls impaled with debris. And Bill’s Fixer held a devilishly red glow as the surrounding oil began to ignite.
The Cop Fred Wrinkler guided his squad car through the town center, with blazing lights and blaring sirens. All was going according to plan until his passenger started screaming. “Hey,” Wrinkler said with concern, eying him in the rear view mirror. There were tears running down the man’s scruffy face. “You okay, buddy?” Obviously not. The man started thrashing around, throwing himself against the seat, floors, and windows, and bashing his body against the bulletproof partition between the front and back halves of the cop car. “Shit,” Wrinkler muttered under his breath as he reached for the radio. “Hang on, we’re almost there. Five minutes,” he called to Brian as he shut off the sirens, though he kept the flashing lights on. He thought the noise might be affecting the man. “Dispatch, this is Wrinkler. I’m gonna need a hand getting this guy inside. I think he’s on something,” he said into the radio. And if that didn’t work, there was always the tazer. With Brian screaming in the background, Martha agreed without delay. He could already see the police station up ahead, about a block away. Two burly officers emerged from the front door and stood in the parking lot, ready to throw their weight around if the criminal proved to be more than Fred could handle.
Alan He was just walking out of Java Speak, headed back to Ill's Ixer, when all the windows of the building blasted out and he saw flames starting to lick the sides. "Oh what the hell!" he shouted then took off running to the mechanics shop. He kicked he door open and burst in, taking in the scene. His bike was blasted apart, and on fire, oil tins were catching ablaze, and the flames were getting close to a gas can in the corner. Then he saw the mechenic, smashed into a desk, unconscious. Alan cursed, then ran into the blaze, trying to get to the mechanic to pull him out of the garage. As he went though, the fire reached the gas container. He saw the flash, then felt the pressure wave coming, popping his ears. He had a quarter of a second... Suddenly, it all stopped. The air around him shimmered blue and white, and the flames slowly died down. But Alan was gasping, he couldn't get his breath. As his vision started to swim, he rushed ahead, slung the mechanic over his shoulder, then ran out of the garage to collapse panting on the ground, finally able to breath again. It had been a long time since he'd had to do anything like that, and he hoped it would be a long time before he had to do it again. He looked down at his hands; his left hand opened and moved freely, but his right was locked in a fist. He tried to open it, but instead it contracted tighter, his fingernails digging into the skin and drawing blood. He gasped in agony, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain as every nerve, muscle, and tendon in his hand contracted. Finally, after another minute it passed, but he was left with deep, bleeding gouges in his hand. Letting out a breath, he looked at the passed out mechanic. Then with his good hand, he grabbed his collar. "Hey! Wake up! What the hell did you do to my bike!"
Ina Holt Ina stood rigid and tight lipped as the growing group around her bickered. She was surprised by how many people seemed to have gotten the same letter. Had the whole town gotten one? She eyed the cowgirl, who seemed to want to get going. Ina wanted to leave as well, crowds made her uncomfortable, and she felt like it would only get worse if she stayed much longer. She looked back, at the photo and paper the cop was examining. Someone had mentioned an old research facility, was that what it was? Then... Was she imagining things? "Look!" She said, pointing at the paper. A message was writing itself across the sheet, as if there were an invisible pen pressing against it. It was the same untidy scrawl that had been on her the envelope. "Break it up, you're attracting unwelcome attention. Lose the cop, and we'll talk." Ina spun around. Whoever had sent them the letters was watching them. She tried to see if anyone was standing or sitting nearby. "Damn tourists!" It was impossible to see anything past the hordes of people wandering aimlessly about. Where had they all come from anyway? Something cold gripped her chest, as she continued looking around. Everyone she saw, standing, sitting, walking, man, woman, child, were all watching them. Every head was turned toward the group. A, odd jolt of panic hit Ina. "Come on," She said, grabbing the cowgirl's hand, trying to pull her from the group, "Let's get out of here!"
Baley Warsaw "Come on," the town-girl said, grabbing her gloved hand, trying to pull her from the group, "Let's get out of here!" Baley pulled away from the girl's touch as her own panic set in. She couldn't be touched...no it was too dangerous. Just like it was dangerous being out in the open like prey. Words had magically appeared on the paper and now other folks were staring. Not only at her like usual, folks were staring at all of them. "I'm gonna ask ya nicely to please not touch me," Baley finally said, placing her arm back over the other. She clenched her teeth as a faint pulsating came from the movement. Carefully she took a few steps away from the group. "Don't mean to be rude or nothin', I just...uh...really need to get to that shop you said. The name's Baley, by the way. Mind me askin' what yours is?"
Ina Holt "I'm gonna ask ya nicely to please not touch me," The girl said, "Don't mean to be rude or nothin', I just...uh...really need to get to that shop you said. The name's Baley, by the way. Mind me askin' what yours is?" "I...na." Ina said slowly, with another quick glance at the paper, "Let's get out of here." She began moving in the direction of the shop. It wasn't a long walk to Carving & Crafts, but every step seemed to take an hour. Now that they'd separated from the group, no one even so much as glanced at them. She thought about all the people who'd appeared, all having the same letter. She'd felt something familiar when she'd been with them. The same feeling she'd had when she'd seen Liriope use his ability. "I... I think that people like us are the only ones who got a letter." Ina said finally, looking at Baley, "Do you-... Is there a reason I can't touch you?" It was an uncomfortable question, but Ina felt like there was more to Baley than she was letting on.
