Who: Ohh just two people
What: having a nice day on the beach
When: about a week or so ago
Where: in California
Status: finishing in comments?

( So we are going from American Outlaws to pirates? )

WHO: Holly Troy and Anya Kalinnikov
WHAT: Besties exploring NYC!
STATUS: Unfinished because Cristina sucks at tagging things lately! Finishing in comments!

( To deny us anything would be absurd )

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!

"They'll be here."

The words were spat at the persistent waitress who kept asking her if she was sure her guests were going to arrive. It seemed that her accent became more pronounced when she was agitated, but she had good reason to be annoyed. Anya Kalinnikov was not the kind of woman who tolerated being forgotten about, and it seemed as though not one but two men had decided their lunch meeting was not important enough to remember. Kevin Broadmoor had arranged this meeting, wanting to discuss 'her career and where she saw herself with the Falcons this upcoming year'; his words exactly. He told her his brother would also be joining them, so she had anticipated something big. For two members of management to want to meet with her, it had to be something good, right? They would be fools to decide she was no longer a fit for the team, especially since she had earned herself the spot of captain for the Russians in the World Cup. That was nothing to sneeze at, and she had actually gotten a little excited to sit down and share her thoughts.

As far as she was concerned, she would have made an amazing captain for the Falcons. She had the experience, and had the determination needed to produce results. She thought maybe this meeting would end with them toasting in celebration of some good news - hell, even a raise would have been nice - but instead, she was left sitting alone at a table in the middle of the fancy Italian restaurant. She had arrived early, and they just...they didn't even send an owl to let her know they would be late.

She had been sitting there for over an hour, and she was certain she looked quite pathetic sitting there, fiddling with the napkin in her lap. She frowned, though she eventually let out a sigh before leaning forward to rest her head in her hands.

This was so embarrassing...

Anya had spent most of her afternoon unpacking all of her things into the new flat she had purchased in Falmouth, thanks to the new trade that had her playing for the Falcons this upcoming season. The place was much nicer than her last had been, though it was a little smaller, which meant that she had to figure out where everything was going to go. The task was more frustrating than she would have thought, so when the last of the boxes was finally emptied, she heaved a heavy sigh before showering and changing into something suitable for going out in public – a simple black dress that came down to the middle of her thighs; something comfortable with potential to catch someone’s attention, seeing how it showed off all of her best assets.

Not looking for an exciting night out, the tall Russian strutted her way down the sidewalk, her heels adding additional 3 inches to her height, making it so that she towered over some of the men and women she passed as she walked, some of them having to turn and do a double take since they were sure they recognized her from somewhere…

She finally made her way into a local bar – the man who had sold her the flat she had just moved into told her all about how it was pretty low-key, which meant that she could have a couple of drinks without being bombarded by the press. She loved the attention, she did, but sometimes she just needed to have a couple of drinks and unwind – tonight was one of those nights.

Taking a seat at the bar, she crossed her legs, flattening down her dress before turning to the bartender as he spoke to her. A charming smile was flashed in his direction before requesting a glass of their finest vodka. She was fully aware that her drink of choice made her a complete stereotype, but it just went down so smoothly. Her foot bobbed as she waited for him to bring her drink, one of her hands lifting up in order to comb her hair away from her face, taking a moment to glance around the bar, taking in her surroundings.

Well, it was definitely low key…she’d have to make a true decision on whether she liked the place or not based on how much she enjoyed the company of the other patrons.

It felt good to be the host of the party, and not the one creating a scene and making an entrance. Though Charlie would never admit it, the therapy sessions with Healer Bonaccord had...well, he still wasn't happy with everything going on in his life, but it had given him an outlet other than the bar, and that was allowing him let out the pent up stress he'd been bottling in. It was hard to figure things out by yourself, and for someone whose ego was as fragile as his, Charlie was slowly realizing that he needed a complete stranger to release his anxieties.

Of course, he wouldn't feel like he'd completely found peace until he managed to get her in the sack, but that was just a personal goal of his.

At any rate, Charlie was finding that being the host was interesting. Everyone knew you were going to be there, so there wasn't a great surprise when they saw you, but after those greetings were done they were off to see who else had shown up. It looked like a good outcome, but Charlie felt a bit slighted as it was pretty deep into the night and a certain invitee had not appeared in the crowd. With a breath he pushed the door open to the balcony and stepped out into the cool December night.

He stuck his hands into his pockets, spotting some displays of fireworks over the tops of the surrounding buildings. Charlie grinned at the early celebrations and let his shoulder sag.


ooc: guests = quidditch related people + their guest?