the inscrutable drystan b. fawcett (brythonichero) wrote in valesco,
@ 2012-02-28 21:31:00

Entry tags:

adrian mattias, anton chang, arista sykes, billie trimble, carys llewellyn, delilah spinnet, derek dobbs, drake parkin, drystan fawcett, galvin gudgeon, geoffrey brand, glenda prewett, griffith kirkham, group, hamilton nott, holly troy, iwan quigley, joey jenkins, magnolia mattias, marissa macfusty, michal conway lynch, miles lufkin, mirabelle jasper, odette boot, rose knightley, rupert brookstanton, savannah davies, seth wadcock, veronica zeller, victoria cadwallader, zoey moran

End of Season party! For the 3rd

Drystan did not usually consider himself a sore loser. He had experienced enough defeats in his career to understand that winning was sometimes as much luck as it was skill—the latter of which he had plenty, the former he was starting to doubt he had any. He would even go so far as to say this was one of the top seasons he'd ever played. Losing the Cup might not be such a hardship, in that light. But to lose to the team he considered the most unsportsmanlike in the League was just an insult to injury. To have lost to them for the third time in the season was, in his perfectly reasonable and justified opinion, grounds for murder.

But a lifetime sentence in Azkaban would leave behind a wife and three children who would likely be just fine without him, but he'd miss them. So mass murder was off the table for tonight, at the very least.

Press snapped pictures outside the admittedly-abandoned looking building of 23 High Street, and Drystan knew there were more inside. Entering the rundown lobby, by-passing the elevator with the out-of-order sign, they made their way up the long flight of stairs to the grand doors of the first floor landing and into the—holy Mer—

Of course, the invitation specified formal wear, but Drystan hadn't honestly been expecting a high-brow formal occasion from the Kestrels. It was a ballroom. There was emerald green positively everywhere. There was something that looked suspiciously like a string ensemble. A bar, where he fancied he would spend as much time as possible, was in the corner. Platters with hors d'oeuvres and glass flutes zoomed by. Having stopped moving, wearing a stupefied expression, Bess had to tug his arm to get him to continue his stride.

"Hell," he muttered, pulling a grim face at the ostentatious yet somehow tasteful décor. Lifting their linked hands, he kissed the back of hers while surveying the spectacle before him.

"Five minutes? Five minutes isn't too soon."

ooc: Quidditch players/personnel + their guests! BLACK TIE! Party is on the first floor in this cool but creepy rundown building. Have fun! :D

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gavins
2012-03-04 09:08 pm UTC (link)

When he felt a hand curling in his, he had (as he often did) a brief flash of concern that some completely off-their-rocker fan had somehow gotten into the event. As soon as he felt the familiar softness of the fingers around his and turned to face the woman attached to them, though, he felt instant relief and managed to let a smile slide over his lips.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it and I'd have to handle the press thinking that the trade had somehow made you dump me for someone a little more successful," he said with a shake of his head, leaning in to kiss her lips briefly. The thought hadn't crossed his mind until just now, but he was sure that the media was going to have a field day if Savannah was 'caught' hanging out with anyone other than him for the next little while. They could think what they wanted, though, because as far as he was concerned everything was going swimmingly. It was going so well, in fact, that he wanted to see whether Savannah wanted to consider coming to live with him, but his sister's difficulties had made him want to hold off until he was sure she was happy again. There was nothing he wanted less than to rub his relationship's success in her face, after all.

"Are you hungry? I can grab you a plate, if you like."

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jot_it_down
2012-03-04 10:03 pm UTC (link)

She hadn’t meant to startle him, if that’s what she had done, and her brows lifted slightly when she caught the short lived look of surprise on his face. His words caused her to roll her eyes, knowing that he probably wasn’t too far off about what would have happened if she hadn’t been able to show up, for whatever reason. Savannah always hated tabloid magazines – more specifically, she hated all the false rumors they spread. She may have been a reporter for Witch Weekly, but she always made sure her reports were 100% accurate. She was more interested in giving people the true story than she was getting recognition for a piece that was complete bull.

That was probably why she had never been promoted yet, despite her level of talent and dedication to her job.

“Ye of little faith.” She gave him another small smile before reaching up to run her thumb along the bottom of his lower lip, wiping away the small bit of her lipstick that had transferred there when he had kissed her. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Dropping her hand down, she used her other to give his a gentle squeeze, driving her point home. She didn’t want to be anywhere but there with him; for him, to show her full support.

The mere mention of food made her make an involuntary ‘yummy’ sound, her one hand going to the flat surface of her stomach, which had been empty since lunch. “I’m starving, actually. Have you already eaten?”

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gavins
2012-03-04 10:09 pm UTC (link)

"I had a little something before I left, but I'll probably pick at your plate." Truth be told, he was something of a finnicky eater when it came to big parties like this - no need to inadvertently eat smoked salmon that had been out for too long and end up throwing up on the floo ride home. That was a mistake he'd made once, and he didn't want to embarrass Savannah with that possible scenario. He grinned, resisting the urge to nip at her thumb while she ran it over his bottom lip and instead just giving her another smile.

"I know you wouldn't, but I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd had other things to do at work." He knew how important her job was to her, and it irritated him more than a little that nobody at Witch Weekly actually seemed to realize that.

"You look lovely as always." He took her arm in his and started to guide them over to the nearest waiter. "Take your pick, love. How hungry are you? Some of this looks like it might be too classy to have actual calories in it."

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