h o l l y (hollyharpie) wrote in valesco,
@ 2014-02-08 20:41:00

Entry tags:

adrian mattias, anya kalinnikov, danielle rookwood, donovan rookwood, grail yates, group, hamilton nott, henry wadcock, holly troy, jeremiah whitehorn, kendall broadmoor, magnolia mattias, mattie scarpin, melania comstock, michal conway lynch, nona pepper, oliver comstock, savannah davies, scarlett rabnott, seth wadcock, therese bonaccord

Hogsmeade Valentine's Spectacular! Friday, the 14th
Now, Holly was definitely not someone who enjoyed the frills and lace of Valentine's Day. Usually, she hated it, it was in the top five list of things she hated, but this year? She felt like celebrating. It had been a damn good year, and Holly was taking every opportunity to showcase the good bloody mood she'd been in. Sure, there had been its blips (McCormack owed her quite some bit), and each moment made her appreciate each and every day.

But that was the sort of sappy stuff she and her husband didn't say, so that was why she had insisted that their visit to Hogsmeade tonight was to crack jokes and judge the couples that took this holiday way too seriously.

It was turning out to not be as horrendous as one may have thought. Hogsmeade was a village on display, each store front lit up with lights, the street lamps giving off sprays of glitter and confetti as couples walked past. The different food places had set up heating spells around outside tables and counters, the aroma completely filling her every sense. The lake had turned into a beautiful ice rink, while a magical ferris wheel lit up the sky. The village had always amazed her, knowing that it was the only place in the country wizards and witches could be completely at ease with their magic outside of Hogwarts.

"Good thing they didn't let the kiddies out," Holly said, eyes catching sight of the castle in the distance. "They'd ruin the romance."

- Hogsmeade is open to all! The village streets are sort of like a Valentine's fair, hosted by Madam Puddifoot's (so you know there's some cheesy stuff).
- For some ADDED FUN, a little trickster has laced the chocolate supply with a truth serum. The amount of chocolate your character ingests, the more truthful/the longer they are under its spell. Soo...that could lead to some fun, y/y? >:D
- ALSO, for players on non British Isles teams, this is the last weekend to be home because practice for the WC starts after Valentine's Day! So get those feels out because you're shipping out!

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Open!

fire
2014-02-17 07:53 pm UTC (link)

February 14th generally meant sweets, flowers, and needless cards for Melania Comstock. This year was no different, with the morning's post chock full of tokens from the trail of heartbroken yet surprisingly amiable paramours she'd left behind in Italy, and the ever-hopeful suitors who had never quite succeeded in gaining her attention. She cooed over the beautiful jasmine arrangement Max gifted her (her favourite, naturally), and paid little mind to the absence of even a note from either of her brothers.

Paid very little mind.

Still, despite the showering of affection, Valentine's Day held little favour with Melania, which was why her attendance to the Hogsmeade festivities of the day baffled her friend, whom she had dragged along to accompany her. Max expressed even more puzzlement when she led him straight to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, a place she openly reviled as being tacky and desperate, right up until all revealed itself as they sat across the room from none other than Nicola Scarpin and Oliver Comstock.

Melania beamed at Max unapologetically before honing her gaze in on the couple unflinchingly. It was, she told herself, the most coincidental of happen-stances. She may vaguely have recalled some half-mumbled detail of Nicola Scarpin and her new, aloof boyfriend planning to attend the special tasting at Madam Puddifoot's in the afternoon, but who could really say? There was always such gossip to attend to; no one could recall all of it.

Max, unwilling to tell her it was impolite to spy on her currently estranged-brother or be party to the action, and therefore involve himself yet again in the affairs of Comstocks, excused himself to the toilet.

She quickly pulled the menu up in front of her face as Nicola turned to look in her direction, slowly peeking out from the placard's edge and narrowing her eyes. When, she wondered, had her brother begun to show an interest in girls? Melania had never known him to have so much as a lovelorn crush, yet here he was, with a girlfriend, and the mother of his child somewhere in the wings.

Unbelieveable!

While gnashing her teeth at how little she really knew about her brother, she reared away when the back of a head moved directly into her line of sight. Frantically, Melania bobbed up and down, from side to side, and even rose out of her seat by a few inches in an effort to see over the large dome, but no matter where she turned, the head still impeded her view.

Ordinarily, Melania would have had little compunction in causing a scene, or even physically nudging the obstacle occupying the next table out of the way, but her entire presence here necessitated subterfuge. Leaning so far forward in trying to catch a glimpse of her target that she was nearly on top of the table, Melania glared daggers at the back of the head, left with only the ability to make an angry sort of hissing noise.

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fictitious
2014-02-17 10:35 pm UTC (link)

Henry had not had to go to drastic limits to deal with a client in years, but here he was, in the ridiculous Madam Puddifoot's to amuse the spritely chaser of the Ballycastle Bats. He needed to finalize paperwork before she headed off on her holiday, but she'd avoided and avoided him until he finally insisted on a meeting. Of course, Valentine's could not be missed, so she agreed, under the terms that she got to have some of Puddifoot's famous petit fours. Henry had now been sitting at the table, alone, for a good twenty minutes while he wanted for the bratty bat, and was going to give her only another ten before he ripped up her endorsement deals and not feel sorry about it.

He looked around the tea shoppe, taking in deep breaths as memories swarmed him. In their early days of dating, Henry had stupidly taken Heidi here on a date, thinking that...well, all women liked the supposed romance that Madam Puddifoot's provided, right? She had been a good sport, smiling and making sure they ordered dessert, but months later she admitted that it had taken some effort on her part to owl him again after that disaster. Merlin, how could he have been so dumb.

Six minutes. Henry was about to raise his hand to ask for the check (he'd had to order something to keep the table) when a strange noise filled his ear. He turned quickly and was surprised to come face to face with a very disgruntled looking woman who was nearly falling out of her chair. Henry looked her up and down, trying to make sure that she was behaving on her own accord. She looked a bit mad.

Henry frowned, shifting in his seat to turn completely. What could she be trying to look at? He followed her gaze and spotted the young Chaser from the Pride, Ollie Comstock; oh, a fangirl. Henry sighed and gestured his hand to the empty seat across from him.

"Take a seat, you'll get a better look."

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fire
2014-02-18 12:49 am UTC (link)

She had opened her mouth to further his obscenities at the wizard, but his words stopped her in her tracks. He was inviting her to sit with him?

That gave her some pause, in which she narrowed her eyes at him very suspiciously. Had he not noticed the venom with which she had been glaring at him? Had he not felt the sharpness of the knives in her vision directed at him?

Perhaps he had, and had been quelled enough to come to his senses and stop acting as an obstacle in her mission.

If she did take the proffered seat, it was a move that would allow her unprecedented spying access to Nicola and Ollie's date, but it would also make her much easier to spot, should they look in this direction.

Yet, if she did not move, it was undeniably true that her vision would continue to be blocked by this—man.

As Max had not yet returned, she huffily stood up and navigated the space between their tables as inconspicuously as possible, sliding into the empty chair.

She glanced innocently to the side her brother was sitting, and then hurriedly held up the menu she had brought with her to cover her face.

"You have a very large head," she whispered to him heatedly, leaning forward.

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fictitious
2014-02-18 02:56 am UTC (link)

Henry's eyebrow rose as she hid behind the menu; if she was one of Comstock's fans, wouldn't she want him to see her pretty face? He frowned, running a hand through his hair...his head was not that big, no matter what this woman (or Seth) said.

"You've got no tact," he said quickly, taking a drink, "and a big head."

Henry looked over to the quidditch player. He didn't know much about Comstock outside of the fact that he was giving his protégé a hard time. Almost daily, Phoebe had something to stay about the chaser, mentioning more than once that he wished to 'retire' or 'quit.' Somehow they'd managed to keep that particularly unattractive trait of his out of the papers, as Henry was sure that the Pride would not appreciate that their last season acquisition was ready to call it quits.

"My sources say she's not going to last," he said, nodding over to Comstock and the girl. Phoebe had also ranted a bit about the girlfriend and how ridiculous it was that Ollie was wasting his time with her.

Though, she did seem a bit old to be fawning over one of the younger players. Henry finished his drink and stared somewhat amused at the woman, "Aren't you a bit old to be gawking over some quidditch star?"

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fire
2014-02-18 04:01 am UTC (link)

Who was this cretin calling old?

Melania had a fistful of confetti within her grasp, ready to throw in the face of this insufferable wizard, when reasoning and logic once again availed themselves to her. Didn't people often confuse Oliver and she for twins? Not to mention that more than once had someone believed him to be her older brother. Of course she wasn't old. Obviously he had some other reasoning for slandering her in such a way.

Now feeling placated, she smiled benignly in understanding. "Are you attempting to do that thing where men insult women they're interested in to create insecurity within her and therefore make her more susceptible to the advances you will later employ?" Her expression quickly grew bored, and she put up the now-glittery hand that wasn't clutching the menu. "Please do not bother."

But hadn't he said sources? Her nose wrinkled as she realised he must be some reported for one silly rag or another. Ugh, she did so loathe journalists and their libellous written word.

"And that is my brother, you fool." She chanced another glance out of the corner of her eye, fanning herself lightly with the menu. "If you publish a word of this, I have enough money to erase your existence."

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fictitious
2014-02-18 04:26 am UTC (link)

Her brother? Henry stole a glance across the tea shoppe, then back at the woman. He could comment on how highly strange it was that she was spying on him, as he was an adult and allowed to be out on Valentine's, but Henry knew that there had been times in Seth's career that he had kept a careful eye on his idiotic brother. Her actions, now explained, didn't irk him as much as they had. They still did, as the waitress was now coming over, assuming that she was his long awaited date, but much less of an irk was felt.

"You can rest assured," Henry said with a quick roll of his eyes as he waved the waitress off, "that I am not remotely interested in you and your big head."

Henry grinned, jutting his chin out before looking down at the table. Comstock, Comstock...his mental library of the quidditch players in the league went into full force, trying to come up with every details of this player that he could. He knew enough from Phoebe, but sometimes the woman's voice hit octaves Henry simply couldn't hear. What did he know about his family? He wasn't in any particular trouble outside of the threats to quit, though something must have caused it. Perhaps familial pressure could be the culprit?

It'd be good to get some clues for Phoebe, who seemed to be floundering with what to do with the kid.

"I'm not a writer, I'm a sports agent," Henry said, eyebrows going high. "A very good one, at that," save for tonight, where his idiotic client hadn't showed, "one you might want to play nice with if you wish to continue spying on your brother."

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fire
2014-02-19 09:06 pm UTC (link)

Her nose crinkled as she took him in with this new knowledge. A sports agent? She could not imagine a job that would bore her more. Quidditch was the one part (at least, it had been the one part) of Ollie's life that Melania could hardly even feign interest in—the number of his games she had attended could be counted on one hand and she had inevitably fallen asleep and/or left during them.

Melania slanted him a sceptical look. "Do I look as though I've ever played nice in my life?" she asked, dubious rather than haughty. If she did, that was both an affront to the image she had cultivated effortlessly throughout her entire life of not playing nice, and that would simply be unacceptable.

Although she wondered what this man could possibly mean, or what he had to offer in exchange for her cooperation, she gave him a very exasperated sigh. "I am obviously doing fine," she indicated her close proximity to Ollie and Nicola with the menu vigorously, "without your meddling. Your assistance is highly unnecessary.

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fictitious
2014-02-22 01:21 am UTC (link)

"You wouldn't be at this table without my assistance," Henry pointed out, unable to resist pointing out the fact that she was still, indeed, sitting at his table. "That big head of mine would still be blocking your still rather limited view."

He stretched back, noting the time and realizing he'd spent far longer in the teashop than he would have ever liked. He hadn't so easily gotten into a bickering match with someone in a long time, not one that was fueled solely by his own entertainment. Henry knew he could have gotten up the second she invaded his personal space, and he was going to do so in a moment, but he'd been amused. Amusement hadn't seemed to come along very much in the past year. And amusement at the expense of a pretty posh princess was always the best kind of amusement.

Henry made eye contact with the waitress, who was busy calming down a bloke who'd had a marriage proposal go wrong. It was definitely time to go; pat the poor sap on the back and get him the check, please. Pushing back his seat, Henry reached into his front pocket and pulled out one of his business cards. Perhaps he could still manage to get Phoebe some sort of way into the locked box that was Ollie Comstock.

"Here, just take my card. I do come quite in handy when it comes to unruly and rebellious quidditch players."

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