the only octavius o. pepper (dinglealltheway) wrote in valesco,
@ 2013-12-27 17:11:00

Entry tags:

adian rosenberg, adrian mattias, andrea johnson, anneliese jugson, bertram aubrey, bess fawcett, bianca aubrey, billie trimble, caden flint, cassandra parkinson, charles spinnet, charlotte sweeting, drystan fawcett, edward pennifold, elizabeth fortescue, elliot alderton, elphias doge, estella flint, ethan jordan, flynn wright, franziska dolohov, gabriel corner, galvin gudgeon, glenda prewett, graciela pennifold, greta catchlove, group, henry wadcock, howell williams, iwan quigley, jake bexley, jeremiah whitehorn, kalista borgin, larkin whitby, louis bonaccord, mackenzie goldstein, magnolia mattias, mattie scarpin, max fancourt, melania comstock, michal conway lynch, miles lufkin, mirabelle jasper, miranda frobisher, nicodemo penrose, nicola scarpin, nora peakes, octavius pepper, odette boot, oliver comstock, orion sinistra, penelope fawcett, phoebe smethwyck, rachel corner, ralph frobisher, remus lupin, rose knightley, rupert brookstanton, saoirse mullet, savannah davies, sebastian goldstein, seth wadcock, therese bonaccord, west sumpter, william jugson, winnifred llewellyn

New Year's Eve Masquerade! For Tuesday

Octavius believed hiring someone to organise an event for him meant they would actually organise an event for him. Unfortunately, that notion proved to be a false one when the organiser left him high and dry in the middle of the month, but Octavius persevered. With the help of himself, Mira, occasionally Lottie Sweeting, and an army of lackeys, the night of the masquerade had come together as beautifully as possible.

Lottie had, for once, actually done her job, and at either entrance of the grand foyer were attendants handing out beautifully crafted half-masks to party-goers, and collecting them as people left. The ballroom was majestic and shimmering, the music was softly thrumming, the drinks were pouring, and the mood was infectious. All in all, Octavius thought, it was a satisfactory night to end a rather satisfactory year. After the chaos and excitement that had chased him all throughout 1983, he was rather happy to have had a (comparably) quiet year.

"Can you make sure Miss Warbeck is ready to begin?" he murmured to an attendant nearby who then scurried off. The Wizarding Wireless Network had, after all, promised a wonderful surprise at midnight! Octavius needed to ensure everything went perfectly.

The flash of a nearby photographer made Octavius scowl, annoyed was he at even the few press witches and wizards who had paid handsomely to be at the charity event tonight. The publicity was good, no one could deny that, and the masks concealed everyone's identity at least marginally so there was no grievous intrusion on privacy, but that didn't mean Octavius enjoyed their presence.

He rolled up the sleeve of his dress robe to check his watch, then his eyes darted back to the stage. It was five minutes to midnight! What, for heaven's sake, was Celestina Warbeck taking so long to appear onto an already dressed stage? Shaking his head agitatedly, Octavius cut through a path through the brightly coloured bodies in the mingling crowd to check on his star performer.

OOC Read this for questions, or ask me! Fluid time, so feel free to thread before/after kisses. Again, the "compulsion" to find your kissing partner kicks in 5-10 minutes before midnight and could be anything from thinking you should walk and get some punch to being mystifyingly sexually attracted to the masked stranger at your side. HAVE FUN! GO WILD ♥ AND HAPPY NEW YEAR'S MY GORGEOUS GALS.

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mullets
2014-01-04 12:21 am UTC (link)

Nearing close to midnight, and Saoirse could contently say that this New Year's was turning out significantly better than her last. No major international tournament impeded her thoughts, no teammates overbore with wheeze-worthy intrusive questions about her boyfriend, and while said boyfriend still made her brain feel like it was simultaneously short circuiting and freezing at the time, she had become better at dealing with this sensation, and recovered from it nearly gracefully these days. It was all around a better start to the new year, even with her housemates and their rather miserable dispositions.

Penelope, Saoirse at least understood. After what had happened... it would leave her feeling shaken, reserved, and unwilling to reach out to others as well. But Nona-- seeing as her best friend absolutely refused to talk to Saoirse about what currently had her blowing up the house more than normal, Saoirse felt little guilt in dragging her out tonight, declaring that if she wanted to be any kind of friend to Penelope, then Nona would support this general outing and attempt in getting their final housemate to leave the house and trust the public again.

She would probably end up with a potion that turned her face orange during tomorrow morning's breakfast, but Saoirse decided she didn't particularly care about that. Later, perhaps, but at the very least definitely not now, for now she had a boy's hand in her own and was excitedly pulling him toward her for a proper New Year's celebration. Mask settled firmly atop her head, Saoirse leaned back against the wall as her arms swung around to rest on his shoulders. She had never truly enjoyed public displays of affection, or even snogging when other people were around, but for some reason, at the moment, it didn't bother her. The only thing that did bother her was what he exactly was waiting for. An invitation, perhaps?

Rising up onto her toes, the ends of her lips curled into a smile. Saoirse kissed the side of his face first, just above his jaw while murmuring, "Happy New Year," before shifting to his lips. What a wonderful kiss.

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howl
2014-01-15 10:48 pm UTC (link)

Howell did not consider himself a very festive person. He liked the idea of the holidays, and of winter, of the warm parlours with lit fires in which families gathered for the holidays, but it had been many years since he had had such a Christmas, though he did his best for his brother and sister.

With warmly melancholy thoughts causing a hard lump to rise in his throat, he wrapped his arms around Saoirse's waist and let the world around them drift into a haze as he fell deeper into the kiss. This night was a far cry from their last new year's eve, and Howell could not stop himself from making all sorts of parallels between then and now, and of the years preceded by both.

He could not say if this year had been more or less eventful, in a better or worse way, than the one before it, but Saoirse and he had been together for all of it, or nearly all of it, and that was what counted. Still, he believed that they could weather anything if they stood by each other's side.

These moments were still preciously few and far between to Howell, and he slid his arms around her waist so he could revel in just the simpleness of touching her, being touched by her.

"Happy New Year," he agreed, holding her close, kissing her to the cheers and shouts of the noisy hall they drifted endlessly in.

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