[identity profile] baedalites.livejournal.com
Who: The City
What: A Rally in Support of Cruorvores.
Where: Mercer's Square, Aspic
When: AT A CLEVER TIME
Notes: Everyone is welcome, including curious neutrals. NPCs available on request. OOC post.
Warnings: A general spirit of solidarity may be present.


Word has been spreading over the network and on the street. Leaflets have been available at open minded public houses and restaurants. A few of the city's more prominent inhabitants have organized a rally to show support for cruorvore citizens. It is going to be a public event; sanctioned, the leaflet assures, by the state. Speeches will be made, the true colours of the city will be shown. There is a lot of talk about standing up to the sowers of discord.

As the evening of the rally approaches, more and more people gather in the square. All sorts have come out for the event, xenians, humans and people who defy categorization mingle peacefully. A cat watches the proceedings from on top the stage has been erected to one end. The stage has been draped in banners promoting tolerance and acceptance, and small sign near the bottom proclaims it was built with the kind donations from Bloody Sunday, The Zygoda, Howl's Market and certain private citizens, of which there is a list. Some attendees have brought instruments and casually strike up a tune every now and then. Others have brought food, signs or torches as the rally promises to continue well into the night.
gotbottle: (mirror)
[personal profile] gotbottle
Who: Sam Winchester and Rachel Conway
What: Another meeting to exchange information and start working toward some answers.
Where: The Shrove's Wing tea house.
When: Newdi, just after 9 o'clock.
Notes: N/A
Warnings: None yet.



Rachel has just done the last of her cleaning up, to end her shift. She moves from behind the counter out to linger in the seating area, so it's clear that she's no longer on duty.

Usually right about now she'd be gathering her things and heading out to get a train home. But she'd told Sam Winchester she'd wait here tonight, and meet him for a talk. She was serious about wanting answers about this place and pretty much willing to share information with anyone in that quest.

She leans against the staircase railing--the stairs lead to private rooms upstairs--and she waits.
suninhades: (Default)
[personal profile] suninhades
Who: Integra Hellsing & Sam Winchester.
What: STUFF.
Where: Hellsing's residential mansion and surrounding areas.
When: This evening.
Notes: Assumed prior meeting, etc. TIME HAS NO MEANING.
Warnings: TBA.

It would be fantastic, Integra thinks, if she could ever get more than four hour's sleep - just sometimes. Perhaps even on a weekend. Usually it's less than that; the idea of something ludicrous as five strikes her as almost gluttonous, at this point, and perhaps it's with that vindictive thought that her tone with the man she's speaking to goes from flatly irritated to obviously angry. She's very aware that there are a number of councilpersons and lobbyists who are aggressively pushing to tighten guild regulations, and that Hellsing is the prime target for such legislation. But the idea that she should parlay and shell out money and favors to get this to go away - when Hellsing is frequently hurting for funding to begin with - makes her positively livid. It's an opinion she makes known - very loudly.

Heaven forbid there's anyone else about at this hour; if her screaming on the phone didn't disturb any other residents, the fact that she slams her bedroom door in a fit of violent pique and all but storms down stairs to the kitchen certainly will. When she yanks open the refrigerator and hisses "Bastards", it's almost reserved, in comparison.

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