 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 |
80 comments | Leave a comment