elizabeth f. fortescue (ringmybell) wrote in valesco,
@ 2009-10-29 20:32:00

Entry tags:

adelaide jordan, augustus borgin, bess fawcett, chester scabior, drystan fawcett, elizabeth fortescue, elliot alderton, ellsinore alderton, euan abercrombie, franziska dolohov, gabriel corner, group, hannah wood, jonas ackerly, kobe ackerly, lydia proudfoot, lyssandra vance, macon carmichael, noah boot, noël carmichael, odette boot, patrick vance, rachel corner, rebecca abercrombie, seth wadcock, stubby boardman

Halloween Party (for Saturday!)! Everyone!
Halloween was her favorite day of the year, outside of her birthday. And Christmas. And Valentine's Day! It was still pretty up there, considering that there were 365 days in the bloody year! Liz couldn't handle the excitement, whether it be from dressing Katie up in adorable little outfits (plural, because she simply could not pick one obnoxiously cute costume for her daughter) or doing her hair or making Ian dress up and the candy!

Ohhhh, the candy.

It was probably not a good idea to be on a full blown sugar rush when you left for a big party like this, but her fans (she had FANS!) were used to her rapid paced talk! So this should be the norm for everyone, because Liz Bell was a show stopper! The red carpet was sooo much fun, and the Bells were just sofreakinggoodlooking so why would the cameras not flash at them and sigh.

Halloween was the best ever.

"How are my buns?" she asked without looking up, unsure if she had wandered away from her husband or not. There were so many pretty costumes and lights and shiny things...it really wasn't her fault if she'd gotten lost in the crowd.

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brythonichero
2009-11-02 04:07 am UTC (link)

That was the thing about Bess Zeller.

She always surprised him.

Confused, but never dreaming of distracting her and perhaps inciting the rage that had yet to appear, Drystan allowed himself to be led to the dance floor, keeping his expression neutral, but he was smirking quite plainly in his mind's eye. He slid one hand smoothly around her waist, grasping her hand with the other so that he held it almost to his shoulder. How many other woman would have yelled, swatted his arm, perhaps even slapped him? How many would be offended that he escorted them to the dance under false pretenses, or was—apparently—blatantly using her to strike back at another woman?

The answer was many. How many would lead him to dance with a vixen-like smile, oozing charm, after a revelation like that?

No other name came to him beside that of the woman he was dancing with.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, casting an eye about the floor for a good candidate. Yes, Miss Zeller was quite the enigma.

"I saw her for a few moments when we came in," Drystan said, making things up as they went along. "Her costume was rather extravagant, but I couldn't make out what it was she was supposed to be." He may have slid his arm the slightest bit tighter around her waist.

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bestzeller
2009-11-02 07:22 am UTC (link)

That excited her. She was here, and moving about the party, probably waiting for a Drystan to be free for a second before swooping in like the vulture she was. Oh, Bess didn't need a description of the costume anymore, she pictured quite perfectly the whorish disguise the rabid fan girl would be wearing; she would definitely know her when she saw her. Those types of girls stuck out in the crowd in the most glaring of ways.

"You certainly seem to have a way with women," Bess commented in amusement. She could understand why, of course, he was one of the most handsome men she'd ever had the pleasure of speaking to (pleasure of seeing was more like it), but there was the simple fact that she had this incessant need to...impress him whenever they had an encounter.

Now that she was looking back at all the times they'd been together, one common factor was that she didn't want to seem inadequate of holding up her part of the conversation, to be able to keep herself on the same playing field as him. Her time at the office had been absolutely terrible, but besides that...Bess was certain he believed her to be someone that she wasn't. Or, at least, wasn't all the time.

"Is it too early for a verdict? Am I living up to your expectations?" she asked as the song slipped into a ballad.

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