#cloe 01.

[marcellabelanades]

“Do you have any more babka?” After the whole fey ordeal, her aunt Brielle had been worryingly absent from her day to day. The usually social woman had practically locked herself inside her home and couldn’t be drawn out to their usual hangout spaces and so Marcella was determined to cheer her up with some of her favorites. The smile she gives Ira behind the register is somehow both hopeful and pained, her hands clasped together in front of her midsection like she was awaiting some kind of lecture. “I’m desperate. I am dealing with a socialite who won’t socialize.” @praetorleal​

[natemichaelson]

Person: @thepraetor Location: Camp Halfblood, Cloe's office They have been avoiding this place like whatever plague is...Well plaguing everyone in the city. Nate was a nephilim, they weren't the average halfblooded person and they'd grown up hunting other members of the supernatural community. He wasn't his father, he didn't share all of his views, but he did understand them. The thing for years had always been that other halfblooded just wouldn't understand them, nephilim were too rare, but they were still kin of sorts. And being out from under Michael's thumb now, he wanted to reach out when the senate might actually need him. "....Hi." Some exhausted looking twink had led him to the senator's office and they stood in the doorway, eyeing the woman behind the desk in what can only be described as awkward suspicion. "I hear you could probably use some help."

[dhcmpirs]

Location: The Wedding Person: @praetorleal​

“This counts as a work function, right?” It’s probably not the best idea in terms of employment, kind of working for a childhood friend. He’s not even the best person for the job, but he figures what he lacks in skills he makes up for in charisma. Regardless, he’s not going to miss a vampire wedding at the Vatican of all places and he can’t stop looking at the place, it’s the only chance he’s ever going to get to see it, probably. 

[farenduil]

location: this is the last canal cakes starter i give u person: @praetorleal​

It is incredibly ominous to show up the way he did, but it’s something that he’s put off long enough. It’s not like she’d ever come to him, but there’d been whisperings of a halfblood trying to get a seat on the senate for a while. It is probably pointless considering the current state of things, to offer her support, and yet he wants to. If Emma had taught him anything the last couple of weeks it was that he could say his piece and that could be closure enough. He didn’t need this person to like him, but he needed them to know his support was there if they ever needed anything, he’d spent too long being quiet about it. “I know it is close to closing time, but I was hoping to speak with you.” The cakes, while looking like something out of a magazine, look beautiful, but he is there for the woman behind the counter. “It’s of importance.”

[emorystarling]

location: canal cakes AGAIN person: @praetorleal

“That should do it.” He steps out of the back room and peeks his head around the corner to look to Ira where she’s getting everything ready to close. It’s not the most interesting thing to do on a day off, fix somebody’s wards, but somebody had to do it, he liked Ira, and he liked Ira’s cooking. It kept him sharp too, it wasn’t anything new by any means but he’d been….Wards were something all witches had to know how to do, he just happened to know how to do them at a level that’d keep just about anything out. His older brother had been an ass, but he’d been good at them, and had made a point to teach him because none of them were looking to get possessed by anything.

[trissraval]

location: ye local pottery place downtown probably

It’s nothing groundbreaking, it’s a vase, but it’s something to do and Viola loves flowers, he can pawn it off on her if he can’t find a use for it. Or maybe it’ll lighten up the new house. Regardless of it’s use, it’s kind of trumpeted and it’s just a base color. They’re not really skilled at the whole painting thing, logistically they get how it works, but something gets stuck between hands and fingers. Simple lines, something to start out with but he needed….”You wouldn’t happen to know where all the pointy things went? The carving ones?” It’s not a knife, it’s not a chisel, it’s some kind of pointy triangle on a stick and the word for it escapes them. But he’d seen the mortal at the table next to him a few times at the studio, banter had been exchanged, they didn’t feel weird asking. “Not for the like,” He makes a stabbing gesture with his left hand. “But the,” He makes a scraping motion. “That thing.” @praetorleal​