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hannah & mark ([info]woodenfans) wrote in [info]valesco,
@ 2013-09-23 19:30:00


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Entry tags:delilah spinnet, elliot alderton, ellsinore alderton, elphias doge, galvin gudgeon, glenda prewett, grail yates, group, henry wadcock, iwan quigley, marissa macfusty, mark wood, matthew summerby, max fancourt, melania comstock, phoebe smethwyck, richard house, savannah davies, scarlett rabnott, seth wadcock, therese bonaccord, victoria cadwallader

Posted for this Friday!



It had been a long, long year for St. Mungo's.

Mark stood with a long flute of champagne in one hand, taking slow, deep breaths. The rearing of the ugly virus' head had given the year a bad, bad start, but here they were. Lives had been lost, but so many had been saved. Mark felt bittersweet about celebrating the year, but he knew events like this needed to be held to keep the hospital running. The donations were used to buy new supplies, potion remedies, and to provide for better training for their healers. Everything was being spun into a positive manner, Mark just wished that it didn't have to be such a lavish event to do so.

"Do you think it's too much?" he said to his wife, looking down at Hannah with a worried smirk. If anything, the night provided a reason for his wife to doll herself and look even more fantastic than she normally did. They deserved a night out, especially now that their trio of children was complete.


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[info]beavertails
2013-09-26 10:13 pm UTC (link)
For a moment she was sure that he was going to take her hand and start studying it. That would've been awkward, frankly, for several reasons - mostly because she didn't like to think about just how much smarter than her Rich probably was. Feeling stupid was her least favorite thing in the world, so when he followed up his offer with a request to dance, she couldn't help the slight smile that curved over her lips.

"I think I could manage that. Nothing makes a person sleep better than exhaustion, right?" Because she sure as hell hadn't been sleeping well since her brother's death, not that she was going to share that with poor Rich. He probably knew, since he'd seen her on the field once or twice since then. She took his hand easily enough, using the extra leverage to stand up.

"I'll try to keep from stepping on your feet. The music that they play at these things isn't really my -- style." She was more about line-dancing and two-stepping, truthfully.

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[info]brickhouse
2013-09-27 11:01 pm UTC (link)
Concern momentarily creased Rich's brow at her oddly worded comment. He hadn't meant he wanted to exhaust her or make her want to sleep; he just thought she might like to dance so they didn't have to keep making awkward conversation. The shoes comment -- well, she'd said they hurt and women normally carried their shoes if the shoes hurt but they wanted to dance. Did she not want to dance?

Merlin's great bloody beard, he was over-thinking this. That was more usual for Rich. He couldn't let anything go without chasing down a reason, even if he wasn't meant to know.

Standing to join Victoria, Rich lightened up his expression and proffered an elbow for her to take as they walked. "Ah, I don't have enough drink in me to even pretend that I know what to do with my feet," he confessed with a smile and slight flush. "If you'd like, I could ask that something more your style be played?"

Shrugging, he slowed and looked to her. "Honestly, Victoria, I'm going to apologize before I go ahead and make a great fool of myself." His tone was soft and genuine. "I know I'm a terrible dancer and even worse conversationalist, but having your attention is -- it feels good."

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[info]beavertails
2013-09-28 12:45 pm UTC (link)
She took his arm as soon as he offered it to her, glad to have at least some distraction at this party. Maybe if she could keep her mind off of things for a while, she could actually have a passable time here. She let out a soft laugh as he spoke, but it quickly sobered up when he started apologizing. Victoria squeezed his arm lightly.

"Trust me, you're not the only one who's appreciating the attention." She wasn't sure if it was because her brother's death had made her feel terrible, or if she was actually radiating an aura that offended the senses of most men, but she hadn't exactly had many offers of dates or dinner since his death. Being a single mum didn't help much with that either, she was sure.

"I doubt you can make a fool of yourself around me. I'm pretty hard to impress in that regard," she mused, shifting once they'd gotten onto the dance floor to loop her arms around his neck. "Once you've seen someone fly head-first into a barstool after getting flung off a magically-enhanced mechanical bull, nobody looks that silly. And as for the dancing style -- I don't think anyone here seems much into country music. I wouldn't want everyone else to have to stand around looking like idiots."

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