It had been a sudden burst of impulse that had led her to write back to a Quidditch player from Falmouth, of all places -- but she was slowly beginning to see that she couldn't just coop herself up at home with the dragons or with her job at the Ministry (which she'd been very lucky to be able to get back after her spotty attendance before her leave of absence, really). It was time for her to move on with her life now that Voldemort really was gone, and the Death Eater activity had significantly decreased for what the world hoped was good.

She chewed absently at her pinky fingernail while she waited for Michal to show up to the diner. She hadn't moved out to her own flat again yet, so going home was out of the question -- and she didn't want him to think that she was some complete nutter from Hebrides right off the bat anyway, even if that was pretty obvious to everyone but her.

Their impromptu pub-date had gone well, she'd thought -- it was certainly clear to her that he probably needed to learn to relax too, whether he'd ever held the ability to and lost it as she had.

Running her fingers through the folds of her dress, Glenda let no pleat or invisible lint go unattended to as she sat. Her dress was far too beautiful for those kinds of blemishes, and the task had proven to be a manageable distraction that was getting her through the rest of the night until it was professionally and socially acceptable to leave.

Oh, that sounded horrible. She really shouldn't be so unwilling to attend her own party. The WWN had really outdone itself, inviting practically the whole of the Wizarding World to help 'welcome her back' to Britain's airwaves. The network had been more than happy to accept her back when she (Sturgis) had contacted them, but had made no mention of something like this until last week after everything had been finalized. All she had asked for was her job back, but apparently her celebrity status had grown substantially with her absence and things like this had become necessary.

She had spent the first good part of the party clutching tightly onto Sturgis' arm, feeling not only uneasy but lost as witch after wizard continued to appear in front of her, asking questions, telling jokes and attempting to have ernest conversations with the woman of the hour. It felt strange having so many familiar faces and names rushed back upon her, and many times already she had wished she was her formal self. If this had been three years ago, Glenda knew she would have chatted up the entire room already instead of giving half-empty smiles, dutiful nods and soft answers.

Now, though, Sturgis had long ago left her side. A tactic she knew no doubt had been purposefully planned down to the minute. It had generated the same feeling within Glenda when he had shown up an hour early before this whole thing started, asking if she minded escorting him, and then offering to drop Tristan off at her Aunt and Uncle's to ensure that she would have enough time to get ready because she hadn't even gotten dressed yet. She knew he was only trying to help with her readjustment process, which made her love, and hate, him more because of it.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Glenda looked up to catch glimpses of the party from outside. Her aimless wandering had lead her to party's outside grounds, a rather nice garden area with sparkling lights and nearby fountain. A few people were nearby, but she didn't mind much. The atmosphere reminded her of Italy.


OOC: soo it's safe to assume Gleny basically knows everyone, WWN would've made sure all friends were here LOL and if she didn't, all famous people were invited anyway so YAY

Marissa wasn't sure exactly what had possessed her to accept an invitation from a complete stranger on the journals, really. She knew that she needed to get out more, sure, and she felt like she could finally be at peace with the fact that she and Sturgis had gone their separate ways, but she still rarely felt like leaving the house after getting home from work. The pressure and pain from seeing James Potter die, to see Alice and Frank Longbottom tortured to the point of no return -- to see her sister lose her hand just like she had, it was all too much for her to have faith in much of anything any longer.

She knew the rest of her friends were feeling it too, that pain, but she just hadn't been able to deal with it. Neither had Sturgis, at least not when they'd been trying to do as much. Now seeing him just reminded her of exactly how much they'd both lost; it was far too painful.

That was why, as she left the Experimental Charms department, she slipped into the lavatory to pull her hair down from its messy bun at the back of her head and wave it out, apply a little chapstick, and give her cheeks a quick pinch. She headed back out soon after and stepped into the main entrance of the Ministry, arms crossed as she leaned against a nearby pole.

She could just wait him out, look to see who else was trying to find another person in the flood of wizards and witches eager to rush home.

Who: Marissa and ~mystery guest~
What: The ministry is bollocks.
Where: Muggle London
When: The relative 'now'

( And it made her want to vomit cotton candy out her eyes. )

As Jonas revved up for the last song of the day, Kobe smiled brightly at the crowd. The critics had been wrong. It was a peace rally that had gone off without a hitch and no sign of death eaters, anywhere! The extra security must really be doing its job, and everyone was having a blast. She'd even seen some aurors bouncing around to the music, too! Kobe was incredibly proud of her husband, and she looked up to the clear blue sky with a wide, toothy grin.

It faded slightly, however, as some dark clouds began to roll in over the park. Remarkably fast clouds, which didn't seem natural and were already thundering loudly. The weather report had claimed they would have clear skies all day, so this was strange and----Kobe slammed her hands over her ears as the loudest roll of thunder clapped itself over the park. Immediately the clouds seemed to open up and rain began to pour down on the crowd like buckets. Well--if bad weather was the worse of their problems, they'd done a pretty good job, right?

Kobe gasped as a bolt of green lightening shot through the crowd, followed by the terrified screams of the concert goers.

"No, nonono----" she let out from the side of the stage. Where had they all come from? The bloody sky? Kobe started towards Jonas, to pull her husband off the stage because while they had met during a catastrophe, she really did not feel like enduring another one, "Jonas!" she screamed, but was thrown off balance as the stage began to creak and shake as if an earthquake was beginning to rumble underneath.

Peace didn't stand a chance, these days.

Who: Marissa MacFusty
What: ???
Where: MacFusty homestead, this morning
Status: Complete narrative

( Listen to the sound...of my big, black boots. )

She hadn't wanted to bring this up with James until she was completely sure that they had something concrete and that Frank could move into legal action, but seeing James post like that -- so angry -- had made her move into action. Between him and Sturgis she was going to slit her own goddamn wrists, so the least she could do was cheer them up the way she knew how.

With James, it meant beer and cigars (even if she'd never seen him smoke -- boys would at least smoke them even if they'd never done it before) and telling him about the suspicious activity she and Frank had seen when they'd arrived at the scene of Mr. Potter's death.

She pushed the door to the Order house open with her hip and closed the door behind her, making sure it was locked before she headed into the hallway and tried to find James.

She ended up dropping the beer (cold, charmed to stay that way for at least six hours) and cigars onto the table in a somewhat messy pile.

"So."

Dirk loved his job, he did, but he loved Fridays even more. He still got to go in and work with the goblins (when they let him!), but he got to look forward to a nice quiet weekend of doing whatever he pleased. Lately it had been trying to get Derek to hang out with him, even though that usually just involved watching telly. It was something! Dirk was worried about his big cousin, especially now with the war getting so intense and--

He blinked curiously, as the shelves of his cubicle began to shake. Dirk's eyes twitched back and forth as he watched the pictures he had hanging drop to the floor, and the bust of Gorgak the Terrible started to inch forward and forward. And his desk was shaking, and now his chair, and Dirk was startled to his feet at the sound of someone screaming, "EARTHQUAKE!"

An earthquake! Oh hell, Dirk had just been thinking that some erumpents had escaped again! Earthquake! What was the first rule of an earthquake? These were NOT the things they taught you in Hogwarts! How was he supposed to survive an earthquake if he didn't have the proper training?! DEREK WOULD KNOW WHAT TO DO, THAT IS WHY DIRK WANTED TO REMAIN CLOSE TO HIM AND----

The bust of Gorgak the Terrible teetered off the shelf and smacked Dirk straight in the forehead, making him drop to the ground, and thankfully roll under his desk.

He really did love his job, he did.

ooc: http://www.scribbld.net/users/valesco_mods/32698.html

James felt like he was in a zoo on display, the feeling of a million pairs of eyes sitting upon him. Dumbledore had set up the Hog's Head as an 'informational meeting' of sorts, for people they had all suggested, thought of, and found to be highly trustworthy. These people were going to be offered to put their lives on the line for their dying secret society, and James was surprised as hell that so many had actually shown up.

They were all idiots, he believed.

But then again, they must all think that he and the rest of the original Order (he felt so old, saying that) were out of their minds. To them, the Order was just a bunch of kids who got caught up in a big, ugly mess and were now crying for help. Which it felt like, sometimes, but James wasn't ready to admit that out loud. He wasn't sure if he ever could, which was why he was staying uncharacteristically silent through the whole engagement. He was slumped in one of the booths of the tavern, eyes following the mingling and quite chatter that was going on.

Drinks will be served! Dumbledore had ended jovially, and James had sighed. Part of him felt like a wretched person for getting more and more people involved into the war, but the other, very tired part of him was ready to hand over the reigns and let Voldemort get some new toys to play with.

( OOC )

Otto really didn't understand how he was related to Ludo, sometimes. With the girl drama, and the...well, every other kind of drama, he could swear that they weren't related at all. He was a person who tried to avoid conflict! Sure, he was a bit of a prankster but that didn't mean he got in trouble a lot. Well, most of the time he didn't. So how his younger brother seemed to attact trouble, he didn't know. But, because he was his brother, he tried to help him out the best he could, even if he seriously just couldn't understand why Ludo had such crappy luck when it came to girls. Not that he didn't have any girlfriends, but they always had baggage.

Currently, the older of the Bagman brothers was laying flopped out on his couch, his journal resting on the table beside him, waiting to see if Ludo would reply back to his last comment that he had written him. His hands were resting beneath his head as he stared at the ceiling, distracting himself by trying to figure out how that big dent had gotten there. Brows furrowed together as he tried to think back on what could have caused it, tilting his head to the side, as though this would help.

"...what the hell?"

His words were mumbled, since he didn't think anyone else was near enough to answer the rhetorical question. He just figured he'd verbalize his curiosity.