» i must give the impression that i have the answers for everything

[thenormalsquint]

Who: Angela and Bruce
What: The tables are turned on the billionaire playboy. Or something like that.
Where: Some cheap diner in Howl Barrow
When: Misdi evening
Warnings: None

Hunkered down in a back booth is Angela, sipping on a tall glass of ice water. Sure, she has a sweet tooth and would rather drink iced tea, but even though they said what she ordered earlier was iced tea, it really tasted like some funky bush water with a squirt of lemon. Deciding to play it safe for now, Angela peruses the menu, looking for anything familiar to order whenever Bruce shows up. If she's lucky and her prayers are answered, maybe he'll be carrying a bottle of hot sauce she can steal and cover whatever she orders. Which is what she usually does anyway, regardless of where she eats.

i watched you, my brother, make a fool of the moon tonight

[inkdamage]

Who: tinySnape and tinyLucius to start, eventually more persons of the eating death persuasion as they see fit.
What: Coming out of the anonymity closet.
Where: In and around the Malfoy townhouse in Sobek Croix.
When: Hours into the night after the Dark Mark scare.
Notes: Doop doop backdated, we're slow.
Warnings: Narcissa is gonna clock Severus in the face, js.

This is not, under any circumstances, what Severus wants to be doing tonight. But he knows his rashness - his kneejerk reaction to shoot first and ask questions later - is to blame for this fiasco, and so it's his responsibility to fix. It's an easy enough fix, too: just come clean about existing at all, lay the scare on a backfiring experiment with unfamiliar magic, and every Death Eater who doesn't know about Sebastian LeMat has an explanation that makes perfect sense.

He doesn't even consider not doing it.

That doesn't mean he isn't still furious with himself, meanwhile, waiting in the dark in Sobek Croix to meet Lucius - the other Lucius - after hearing back from Sebastian (Harry). He's ripped pertinent information out of his head, but not all of it; it's not safe or sensible to leave all your eggs in one basket, so he had to choose. Severus would rather walk around with proof of what he did to his compatriots back home than what he did to aid a child. If anything happens, he'd rather appear unstable and dangerous, not sentimental.

So here he is. Dressed in black, yes, but not his usual attire; he doesn't look like a Muggle, but he doesn't look like Severus Snape, Potions Master. That he is twenty-five and irritably smoking a cigarette, lacking in the protective charm that's hidden him these past few months, might be less weird.

find us a trap door, find us a plane

[magnetic]

Who: Magneeter and Ponyboy Pyro
What: manly Skyrail date
Where: ...the Skyrail, starting at Griss Fell station
When: about a million years ago at this point, we're slow
Notes: backdated the most
Warnings: possibly teenage cussin' /clutches pearls

Two o'clock on Thursday, he'd said, and as the university's great old tower bells across the river begin the traditional preludial peals, Erik looks in its direction. The pale-faced clock and its iron fixtures just visible between two buildings. His eyes follow the spire up into the belly of a cloud, and he wonders what his friend is doing—whether there's a lesson now, or more grading to be done, or what-else.

He has on a pair of sunglasses, and no hat, and his hands are in the pockets of his jacket. His trousers are scuffed at the knees and smeared with a bit of black grease and his feet inhabit a pair of heavy, dirty boots. As if on cue (but not on purpose), he turns his head with the final tolling of the hour and resumes watching people as they move past him down the stairs, or approach on their way to the Skyrail's platform, and looks for John.