<div style="text-align: justify;">Note: OOC thread is <a class="postlink" href="https://creativefreedomrpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=23&amp;t=48923"><span style="color: #FF0000">here</span></a>. If interested in joining, please post there.<br/><br/>Crossroads, Texas - Wednesday, Jan 06, 2016 - 10:00 am<br/><br/>It was a regular day in the town. As usual, people were going about their every day lives. School had just reopened after the holidays, so everyone was still getting back on track. Every other business was going in full steam, as there was no time to be wasted. It looked like it would be just another ordinary day.<br/><br/>The local <span style="text-decoration: underline">Catholic Church</span> was, as usual, open to welcome anyone who wanted to spend a moment there. After the early Mass, Father Daniels, a kindly man with greying hair, had stuck around in case someone needed a moment of his attention. He had sat in his office - choosing a spot that allowed him to see the entrance - with the door opened and started looking up references for his next sermon.<br/><br/>When <span style="color: #FFFF00">Elena Parkinson</span> walked in, the priest sighed. He knew why she was there. Every month, in the day that marked her husband's passing, she used to go in for confession. She was a lot better, though, he had to admit. When it had just happened, the priest had feared she might make an attempt on her own life. She was doing much better, though, and he would be there to support the girl he had met as a child. <br/><br/>Sitting by her side, as he usually did, the priest greeted Elena warmly and started a conversation. They talked, simply talked. About work, about how she had been doing, about her plans... it was just a conversation between two old friends, but Father Daniels places his questions strategically, as to know what was in his friend's mind and heart. They were so focused on their conversation that neither of them noticed that the once clear morning sky was darkening quickly. It seemed like a storm was about to come.<br/><br/>The local <span style="text-decoration: underline">bus station</span> was a little more alive than it usually happened to be. Some of the people who hadn't yet gotten back to work were just now returning to town, and two or three buses had only just arrived at the bus station. The drivers had opened the doors and waited patiently for all the passengers to exit, and then, while the inside of the buses was picked up by someone who had been waiting, the drivers had taken up unlocking the bagage storage areas and were taking the bags out and handing them to the corresponding passengers. It looked like everything was just fine when they had started, but as the last bags were being handed, the sky had already started darkening. The driver of the last bus to arrive handed a bag to the young man who had been waiting - a different looking fellow, he thought to himself - and commented about the weather. "If you're going far, I would secure an umbrella. Looks like it's gonna pour".<br/><br/>At the <span style="text-decoration: underline">garage</span>, if Ethan had been busy under a car, he would probably not have the chance to notice that the sky was changing. There was no thunder or lightning, and it had not yet started to rain. Even if he had, though, he would still be informed.<br/><br/>An older lady, called Mrs. Warrender - she was a member of one of the oldest families in town - had just come in to check on her car. It had been a simple repair, as she had gotten her windshield cracked and needed it changed, so she decided to drop by and see if she could pick up her car. "Ethan, darling!", she called out, as she called every other younger person. "Have you had the time to fix me up, honey?", almost in the same breath, she continued. "And if not, would you have an umbrella I can have for a while? Looks like a storm is forming out there!". Once finished speaking, the woman finally stopped and waited for an answer.<br/><br/>At the <span style="text-decoration: underline">Crossroads Elementary School</span>, classroom 21-B, a young redhead was covering for the regular teacher, who had taken the day off on personal business. She had been trying to get the class on schedule, so that Mrs. Parkinson wouldn't have to play catch up the next day. Not that she would have mind, the young woman thought. Mrs. Ellie, as some of the kids called her, seemed to have a magic touch with even the most difficult children. With a sigh, Miss Jones looked at one of her temporary students. Ugh, she could never assign names to all of the faces. "No, dear, Mrs. Ellie is not sick. She has taken a day for personal business, and will be back tomorrow. Now please, open your text book on page 40 so we can carry on".<br/><br/>At the <span style="text-decoration: underline">residential area</span> of the town, everything seemed pretty quiet. Some people were out on business, others were home preparing to leave, or sleeping, or doing whatever they needed to do. Crossroads was a pretty well-balanced town in matters of social class, so there wasn't much of a difference there between the kinds of homes people lived in. Maybe it was the way things worked in smaller towns, but there weren't many differences between people. There were wealthy families, and modest ones, and people seemed to get along. The next house to the right of the mayor's was occupied by a large family. The Warrenders, one of the oldest families in the region, lived as a multigenerational group in that large home, and everyone pitched in.<br/><br/>As the sky had started to darken, one of the 'girls' - the daughters of the widow who owned the house - got out through the back door to collect whatever dry clothes were out there. After that, she would tap on her neighbor's window and speak only once she saw someone. "It looks like it's gonna rain soon. Shouldn't you pick up your laudry as well?", the woman suggested, with a kind smile, to whoever came to see what she wanted.</div>