It's A Lark, This Profession (open to Witch Hunters)

[Deleted]

Dr. Mann was right... this place was nuts. England... Scotland. To a lesser extent, Ireland... this place has issues. 

Dr. Mann, magnificent squib that he was, had done a great deal of digging into the Wizarding World across the pond from their native United States. Oberon had followed up, verifying as much as he could, mapping out the biggest magical populations. By now, he'd spent a few days scoping out the so-called "Diagon Alley" and it's darker cousin, "Knockturn Alley". Awful names, in his opinion, but it wasn't the worst he had seen. 

Earlier in the week, Oberon had put out a few feelers for contacts Dr. Mann kept. He didn't know if Mann knew these people, but they had to be important if Mann thought so. Part of what Oberon had sent out were invites -invites to meet away from the magical populace. Today, he was waiting to see if any of those contacts would answer the call. 

The meeting place he had chosen was a small breakfast joint that served a poor excuse for real coffee. As he sipped the bland bean water, he grimaced, hoping someone would show up soon. Oberon had more to learn and a list of names that needed to be eliminated. 

@ fellow witch hunter (open)

[Deleted]

The Second Salemer community was a small one, so Muffy wasn't entirely surprised to find that she had received a letter from another member of the organization. A Dr. O.J. Hague, a name she recalled but couldn't place from the United States, had invited her and—from the sounds of the letter—some others to some diner of some sort for a meeting. Although it wouldn't have been her ideal venue, Muffy accepted. Networking certainly didn't hurt.

So, off she went by cab to the location that Dr. Hague had specified. Any hope of arriving early had been dashed by the horrendous traffic, but she had made it to what certainly looked like the right place.

Entering the building, Muffy looked around, expecting to see a group of people chattering. There were just restaurant patrons, though, from what she could see. It was slightly disappointing that there wasn't more happening; she was itching for something of true interest to come along.

Seeing a gentleman who appeared as bored as Muffy knew that she would be if she was left waiting for long, she smiled—the kind of smile that would have been off-putting to anyone not accustomed to how often Americans smiled.

"Excuse me," she approached him. "I'm looking for a Dr. Hague?"

oberon anteros blishwick