Drac's suite at the Hotel, Sunday, after dusk
Owning a hotel full of monsters with varying personal needs meant he was on call 24-hours a day. But while Drac was used to being awake at odd hours, he'd always tried to keep a proper personal dining schedule for Mavis' sake; both Martha and he had agreed that gathering together as a family, at least at the table, was important in the development of a child.
And that schedule said that at this early hour all good and proper little vampires were either asleep or just waking up to breakfast. But since the island they'd moved to was operating on daylight hours, besides insisting that Mavis join him for meals at least once a week, Drac was slowly trying to adjust their meal times to match the islanders. Hence this confused mix of a meal before him.
The lights were out and the table was set with candles. Normal for any meal. The goblets were filled with NearBlood (with lots of pulp added plasma, since someone was still a growing vampire). Normal for the hour. The platters were piled high with wormcakes, omelettes, lizard and screamcheese sandwiches, fried scorpions, mouse jelly, and other foods that weren't really breakfast or lunch. Not normal at all.
Not. Normal.
Drac placed another wormcake on his plate and reached for the syrup with a small OCD-heavy sigh. Well... Maybe if he considered it brunch?
"So, Mouse. Tell me. How are you doing in classes? Are you making friends?"
[for callmemavy]
And that schedule said that at this early hour all good and proper little vampires were either asleep or just waking up to breakfast. But since the island they'd moved to was operating on daylight hours, besides insisting that Mavis join him for meals at least once a week, Drac was slowly trying to adjust their meal times to match the islanders. Hence this confused mix of a meal before him.
The lights were out and the table was set with candles. Normal for any meal. The goblets were filled with NearBlood (with lots of pulp added plasma, since someone was still a growing vampire). Normal for the hour. The platters were piled high with wormcakes, omelettes, lizard and screamcheese sandwiches, fried scorpions, mouse jelly, and other foods that weren't really breakfast or lunch. Not normal at all.
Not. Normal.
Drac placed another wormcake on his plate and reached for the syrup with a small OCD-heavy sigh. Well... Maybe if he considered it brunch?
"So, Mouse. Tell me. How are you doing in classes? Are you making friends?"
[for callmemavy]