green eggs and ham

[patricide]

Who: Club Luthor
What: a breakfast meeting, because family bonding is best when it's put in your day planner
Where: Brock Marsh
When: Sukkardi morning
Notes: they've already had their first breakfast meeting in person, now it's kind of a routine
Warnings: Luthors are playing nice holy shit (for now)

The current restaurant is a far cry from the inn. Though they had their reunion at the inn, Luthors aren't the kind to indulge in such frivolous sentimentality that would cause them to make a tradition of it. The cafe is small but neat, perfectly nestled in the neighborhood that has rebuilt itself to its former splendor since the creature attacks several months prior.

It's a weekend and for now Lex has all the time in the world. At least until Lionel gets to be too much and he can make up a convenient excuse.

a pale princess in a palace cracked

[suninhades]

Who: Integra Hellsing, Narcissa Malfoy, and perhaps a husband.
What: A concerned citizen contacts Integra about seeing Mr. Malfoy's wife being mugged in the forest! Oh no.
Where: Malfoy Townhouse.
When: In the wee hours of the morning after Lucius and Narcissa's mugger vs jar of moonlight deathmatch.
Notes: This takes place before Integra and Dean go looking for Mabel.
Warnings: TBA.

Four missing persons within Hellsing - Integra might be surprised there's not actually hellfire following her around the past few days if she was in the presence of mind to be more whimsical about anything. She's coming in from overseeing a captive hellspawn entity being taken in from outside when the man approaches her, timid but determined, afraid for 'that lost-looking fella's wife'. She hears the story and doesn't even bother calling anyone else. She's not heard a damn thing back from Mabel, and that's quite enough. CiD communication is apparently just not cutting it. Fine.

Wearing a black coat, hair pulled back into a high ponytail and clutching a sepia-glowing fae-lit lantern in one hand, Integra bangs ungracefully on the townhouse door, nevermind it being four in the goddamn morning. The night is inky-dark, corners curled around with fog battling the changing temperature of the season. She looks furious.