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g ↔ f ↔ ρ ([info]chickidy) wrote in [info]valesco,
@ 2011-08-11 19:26:00


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Entry tags:caden flint, carys llewellyn, darien dobbs, dianna dobbs, drake parkin, edward pennifold, estella flint, felicia bulstrode, felix ackerly, glenda prewett, graciela pennifold, group, kendall broadmoor, marissa macfusty, martin boot, nicole boot, sturgis podmore

EVERYONE! PARTY THREAD
Running her fingers through the folds of her dress, Glenda let no pleat or invisible lint go unattended to as she sat. Her dress was far too beautiful for those kinds of blemishes, and the task had proven to be a manageable distraction that was getting her through the rest of the night until it was professionally and socially acceptable to leave.

Oh, that sounded horrible. She really shouldn't be so unwilling to attend her own party. The WWN had really outdone itself, inviting practically the whole of the Wizarding World to help 'welcome her back' to Britain's airwaves. The network had been more than happy to accept her back when she (Sturgis) had contacted them, but had made no mention of something like this until last week after everything had been finalized. All she had asked for was her job back, but apparently her celebrity status had grown substantially with her absence and things like this had become necessary.

She had spent the first good part of the party clutching tightly onto Sturgis' arm, feeling not only uneasy but lost as witch after wizard continued to appear in front of her, asking questions, telling jokes and attempting to have ernest conversations with the woman of the hour. It felt strange having so many familiar faces and names rushed back upon her, and many times already she had wished she was her formal self. If this had been three years ago, Glenda knew she would have chatted up the entire room already instead of giving half-empty smiles, dutiful nods and soft answers.

Now, though, Sturgis had long ago left her side. A tactic she knew no doubt had been purposefully planned down to the minute. It had generated the same feeling within Glenda when he had shown up an hour early before this whole thing started, asking if she minded escorting him, and then offering to drop Tristan off at her Aunt and Uncle's to ensure that she would have enough time to get ready because she hadn't even gotten dressed yet. She knew he was only trying to help with her readjustment process, which made her love, and hate, him more because of it.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Glenda looked up to catch glimpses of the party from outside. Her aimless wandering had lead her to party's outside grounds, a rather nice garden area with sparkling lights and nearby fountain. A few people were nearby, but she didn't mind much. The atmosphere reminded her of Italy.


OOC: soo it's safe to assume Gleny basically knows everyone, WWN would've made sure all friends were here LOL and if she didn't, all famous people were invited anyway so YAY



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[info]nicoles
2011-08-14 06:26 am UTC (link)
Nicole raised an eyebrow at Martin over yet another immaculately put-together snack. Oh, this plate of food had to be high on the list of reasons she loved him. There was no way it sufficed for an entire meal, but she was sure that her stomach had nearly begun eating itself when he had come.

"So that's where you went," she mused. Well, if that was the case, she couldn't be too angry with him. It had seemed strange that most of the journalists had suddenly stopped accosting her sometime around the point she had gotten a hold of the manager for the Magpies, but considering she was having to do so much acting, she had quickly taken her mind off of the fact. It was tiring work, putting on a show with people watching and criticizing your every move. It was difficult enough to be yourself around the media, much less someone else.

Her career was worth it, though. Her career in Quidditch was everything to her, and she was willing to go through a lot of bullshit to keep it.

Clearly.

Her ears perked at her fiance's second question, but a look around the room dashed her hopes of relief for her tired feet. "I don't think that would be considered entirely polite," she told him regretfully. If she hadn't had such a long skirt to cover her faux-pas, Nick wouldn't have even taken off the heels in the first place. "But you owe me when we get home--and some Chinese take-out, because there is no way hors d'oeuvres are going to satisfy your son," Nicole told him pointedly, poking Martin in the shoulder as she did so.

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