bess d. fawcett (bestzeller) wrote in valesco,
@ 2011-06-10 22:15:00

Entry tags:

adrian mattias, bess fawcett, charles spinnet, delilah spinnet, drystan fawcett, group, mirabelle jasper, penelope fawcett, seth wadcock, thomas mccormack

Open to Quidditch Players + Guests
Of course the party had a slight theme of blue and yellow. It wasn't blatantly obvious, but as Bess shifted the United blue napkins to the perfect angle, she couldn't help but beam at how proud she was of the entire gathering. People were happy to see each other, mingling and looking relaxed; the party was exclusive to the players and their guests, so there were no cameramen or journalist---the only pictures being taken were by the players themselves, who seemed to be having a good time goofing off before work began again. Bess had really never thought about being one of those wives, that hosted parties and entertained guests, but---she had to admit that it was quite fun.

The garden looked beautiful. Bess wasn't quite sure how Drystan had so easily managed to get the space, but she wasn't going to complain. Her husband had tricks up his sleeve that she'd probably never fully figure out. Plus, she'd gotten her sister-in-law out of her flat and now Penelope was somewhere around here...hopefully talking to a handsome bloke (but just talking! Only talking!).

Bess couldn't be more pleased with herself. She let out a breath and shook her head at a few players who were on their fourth glass of champagne.

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Penelope >>

spinnets
2011-06-11 02:21 am UTC (link)

Charlie was ready to kick Felicia in the teeth. He really did love his teammates, that was one thing he'd never be able to deny, but when she liked to show off and make him look like an idiot, then he just really wanted to beat her with her own bat. That sounded terrible, especially since he was talking about a girl, but Felicia could definitely hold her own against the men of this league, and Charlie was no exception. He didn't like to admit that he was only rough when it came to quidditch (and sex if the mood was right), and he hated to admit even more how easily flustered he could become.

Right, so he was not going to accept her arm wrestling challenge and was going to go find his jacket and get out of here. Or maybe that's just the excuse he'd give, to avoid any humiliation. That was the key, wasn't it? If you don't participate you can't actually fail. He might be a Gryffindor, but he wasn't an idiot, no matter how synonymous those words tended to be at times.

He made his way toward the closet he thought he'd seen his coat float into from the entrance way, and opened the door with a great sigh. Instead of his coat, however, he found a girl. By herself. Which was not usually the case.

"I think you're missing something," he mused, holding the door open wider and staring down at her with interest, "How does one get their seven minutes in heaven by themselves? Or--" Charlie cracked a grin and shrugged, "I suppose it's possible."

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perfectblack
2011-06-11 05:18 am UTC (link)

Penelope had been excited when Bess ordered her to come to the pre-season party. Honestly, she had been. When Drystan took her aside and made subtle suggestions that she would be too bored, too young, and too intelligent to mingle with such a crowd and did she really want to subject herself to that, she put up a proper fuss til Bess helped convince him (or rather, make him be quiet). She'd even let Bess take her shopping for new dress robes, the hems of which she presently worried between her fingers.

Then as the day drew nearer, she felt just the tiniest bit of unease. Nothing alarming, just a twinge. After all, she was a young girl going to her hero-worshipped brother's party, attended by rich and famous witches and wizards. Not being nervous would be cause for concern! Finally putting on the robes, that twinge became more of a squeeze in her gut, and try as Drystan might, Penelope couldn't realistically shadow either him or Bess the entire night. She politely greeted the few old friends in attendance, quietly dodged a rather drunken wizard's wholly unwanted advances, waved off Drystan and Bess, and promptly lost the ability to breathe. All those people in all that tight space! (Well, not so tight—her brother owned the building, after all, he could afford some room) A panic attack, perhaps. Overstimulation of the senses. She really couldn't remember being in a room with so many people who had such little regard for personal space! And all that stale air. She ran out of the room as gracefully as her light-headed state allowed and found herself in the dark closet of the entry way with a facefull of cloaks.

Panting hard, she sunk to the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees as tightly as possible. She squeezed her eyes shut. It would pass. It would take a few moments, but it would pass, and then she could go back out there and be that social butterfly her family wanted her to be, and it would be all right.

The idea of going back out gave her the lightest sheen of cold sweat.

She'd just resigned herself to hiding in the closet for, oh, perhaps ever, when the door swung wide and an impossibly large man from her vantage point seemed to shove all the open space of the doorway aside as he stood there.

Flaming pink cheeks from being caught in the closet, furrowed brows from his confusing statement, and a rapidly opening and closing mouth to issue either a squeaking apology or a shriek to leave gave Penelope a rather harried appearance. After blinking owlishly a moment, she blurted out the first fully-formed sentenced her mind could grasp, "What are seven minutes in heaven?"