005; CLOSED. and darling, i saw it all.

[norea]

Who: The present anti-CL team.
What: Meeting to discuss.
Where: Lost Society, in the library.
When: Misdi, around midnight.
Notes: plotsss. I'll have three comment sections: one for Rhade showing up early, one for the collective group (we'll have to sort out orders since there are quite a few characters), and one for separate character interactions (one on one or whatever y'all prefer). AND... we will have to copypaste in our tags from LJ, soooo.
Warnings: idk yet.

The spell that Hasibe has worked over Lost Society means that no one is going to remember they were there; service will be a bit spotty, as a result, and the waiters on hand will seem peculiarly disinterested in whomever shows up, only providing them with drinks and necessities when deliberately prodded, but that's an aspect of the magic. She partially chose this location because it's easy to find a secluded area there, and in this case, she finds a table in the library, shrugging off her white coat to rest it on the back of her chair. She is dressed in a sleek, high-collared dark-green dress that is not too flashy, in order to keep with the discretion of the venue.

The other reason she chose this place is that they don't care if you smoke indoors. So that's what she's doing, rose-flavored Black Devil cigarette in hand, sitting back in her chair as she exhales smoke toward the ceiling. She has a couple books open on the table in front of her, and nothing in the way of food, but she does have a drink. Priorities.

There'll be lots of time and wine (closed log)

[gifted_hands]

Who: Tadhg MacEibhir and Angela Montenegro.
What: A picnic date! With dessert first.
Where: Starts at the Valhalla, will move to Barrackham because trees.
When: Noon on Sukkardi until however late it goes.
Warnings: It is Angela and Tadhg, so probably frank language at least.

( Red yellow honey, sassafras and moonshine )

most consequential choices involve shades of gray

[amourpropre]

Who: Erik Lehnsherr, Lucius Malfoy (Sr) and Tadhg MacEibhir
What: Discoveries are made where things are concealed, for fun and profit.
Where: South of the city.
When: Newdi morning (and slightly backdated).

It's difficult to explain to the uninitiated what one should expect from these adventures. Each time Lucius has gone, it's been a little different. A scavenger hunt of trinkets through to warfare with dinosaurs. Upon explanation, primarily to Mr. MacEibhir, he might not have properly accounted for this, and next time may just leave it at: if you have particular expectations, I suggest you leave them behind.

For one thing, Lucius expects danger, but the shape looming ahead of them, seen hazy through windshield and fog, is not the kind of threat that accounts for the defensive charms he has attempted to put on the now serviceable vehicle. It is passive, large, stagnant as a building.

They've been driving for a while. Erik behind the wheel and Lucius has taken his seat in the back, sitting stiffly in a way that is less about posture, more about lacking trust in the metal cage on wheels he tolerates for the sake of these trips. Taking the vehicle out from where it's shacked up in secondhand barn building, headed out further south and into what was almost a wall of dense fog, preternatural in its lingering. Visibility was lost by the time they'd passed their last pasture fence, rumbling over terrain that degenerates from road to trodden packed earth. Lucius is a quiet participant, and if he is leading this expedition beyond simply organising it, then he is doing so with.

Subtlety. Or apathy.

No robes, either. Trousers, a shirt, although his coat involves a lot of fabric, granted. His only weapon, which may seem queer to some in the car but expected for others, is the black and silver polished cane he currently has balanced across his knees, hands rested on it primly. If he usually wears rings, he doesn't today.

Ahead, the sprawling shape is a dark shadow in all the whiteness, laid across their path, man-made angles. Lucius won't see it first, preoccupied with his side of the scenery, where the sun burns from the east, struggling through the encompassing fog.