(Untitled)

[headline_maker]

Deep down beneath the quiet reserve and the sweet smile, Sacharissa was thrilled. True, it was terrible that people were having hallucinations (and she really didn't see the need for a post office on an island roughly ten miles square), but this was news. They were good stories, both of them, worth the writing. She missed the rush a daily paper

Comments

[how_itgoes]

Sam's not sure about this whole thing. Usually Gene takes care of the reporters (with his...usual 'grace' at the matter), but he's willing to speak with tact and reserve. "Miss Cripslock?" he inquires of her.

[headline_maker]

"Mr Tyler," Sacharissa says, her face lighting up with a kind smile as she walks gracefully into the room. She comes to a halt before his desk, pencil and pad behind her back, head at a slight incline. Ever the picture of sweetness and reserve, she looks little like one would expect a reporter look.

That's the whole point, really.

She likes interviewing new people for that very reason. "It's good of you to speak to me. I do appreciate your taking the time."

[how_itgoes]

Sam's not easily taken in by sweet faces. He's seen Gene Hunt hit all too many of them in dark, smoke-filled rooms to do anything but feel sympathetic for pretty women. "It's my job," he informs her as she wanders closer to sit down. "Do you have any questions or uh, should I just give you my statement?"

[headline_maker]

Sacharissa considers this briefly as she settles into her seat, legs crossing at the ankles and notepad resting against her thighs. "Why don't we start with the statement," she suggests, "and I can follow up from there?" She's curious to see what he plans to say. It isn't like Vimes to organize answers for his officers, so her best guess is this is Tyler's own plan. Sometimes there's as much to be learned from what they try to tell you as from the truth.

[wpc_ridinghood]

Spending every Sunday, Catherine's day off, in the psych office may have been a tiring task, but one which Annie found to be more and more worthwhile every week. She got plenty done every other day, sure, but the hours between seeing patients were useful for rewriting her notes more neatly, recopying what she needed to for Sam. As such, she was involved enough in what she was writing that the knock that came on the door caused her to sit upright with a start, but a second later, straightening some papers, she called out, "Come in!"

[headline_maker]

Sacharissa opened the door slowly, craning her head around the corner to smile before stepping inside. "Got a moment for the interview?" she asked. Though Annie was a friend, certainly, she already had notebook and pencil at the ready. In fact, the fact that Annie was her friend made it all the better. People were less on their guard with their friends.

[wpc_ridinghood]

Annie smiled at the sight of Sacharissa, carefully filing away some papers, pencil clamped between her teeth, as she gestured to the seat across the desk from her. "Of course, as long as you need," she said, once she was free to speak, desktop more clear (and without more detailed notes visible; doctor-patient confidentiality still held, even if she did trust the other woman). "Come on in, then."

[headline_maker]

Making her way further into the room, Sacharissa took a seat opposite Annie. She crossed her legs, resting her notebook against one knee. "Miss Cartwright," she began, and that was the only signal she would give that they were on the record now, "when did these hallucinations first come to your attention?"

[sir_samuel]

Vimes had been informed by a polite note written in careful, feminine script that Miss Sacharissa Cripslock requests an interview on the subject of rumors of hallucinatory happenings on Tabula Rasa.

Miss Sacharissa Cripslock - polite and kind to a fault, and all the more deadly a reporter because of it. He sighed. Ever since Cam's disappearance, Vimes had gotten into the habit of taking the night shift, or at least the first half of it, a couple times a week. Now that the Council meeting was finished, he was there again, feet propped up on the desk and still sipping coffee.

And waiting for damned Miss Sacharissa Cripslock to make her appearance.

[headline_maker]

She did so with her usual quiet grace, slipping into the room with a gentle rap on the door frame. "Commander," she greeted him cheerfully. As much as she felt 'Your Grace' to be more appropriate,* there were times when she needed Vimes to be in a good mood or, at least, a decent mood.

Well. A decent mood for Vimes anyway.

"If you're not terribly busy, I have a few questions."

* Not to mention somewhat more fun.

[sir_samuel]

"Never too busy for you, Miss Cripslock," he deadpanned and gestured to the chair across from him. "Have a seat. Let's get this over with."

[headline_maker]

"Gallant as ever," Sacharissa said, smiling as she slid into the chair. Crossing her legs at the ankles, Sacharissa leaned forward, pencil poised and ready. "Commander, you've been receiving reports of hallucinations since early September. The IPD is currently investigating possible causes of these cases, is that correct?"