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◎ c h a r l i e ([info]spinnets) wrote in [info]valesco,
@ 2011-12-26 23:36:00


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Entry tags:anya kalinnikov, billie trimble, carys llewellyn, charles spinnet, delilah spinnet, group, joey jenkins, mirabelle jasper, octavius pepper, penelope fawcett, rose knightley, rupert brookstanton, seth wadcock, therese bonaccord, victoria cadwallader, zoey moran

NEW YEAR'S EVE POST
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?



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Drake :)
[info]llewellyns
2011-12-27 04:56 am UTC (link)
It had seemed like a good idea, going to this party. All of their friends would be there, and there was no press to...well, impress so it could be a good time. Carys had actually been looking forward to going to the party, thinking that she'd be able to break out of her holiday funk and ring in the new year in good spirits, but as she and Drake made their way toward the address on the invitation she felt her chest twist and she stopped on the street corner just a block away from the entrance.

"I don't want to go anymore," she said with a pout, ready to kick her shoes off and sit down right there on the curb of the pavement. Drake would either be thrilled to go back home or annoyed that she'd dragged him out here for no reason, but she couldn't care at the moment. She didn't even want to be home, she didn't want to be anywhere.

Carys pushed her hair behind her ear, looking out into the street. She didn't even want to eat, which was all she'd been doing lately. She didn't want to go home, she couldn't eat, and she couldn't play some quidditch, and even if she could it would just remind her of her dad, and how on New Year's Eve he would fly her up as close to the fireworks as possible and that she hadn't done that since he'd died. Oh, hell, her husband better figure out something soon before she burst into tears at her stupidly depressing thoughts.

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