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


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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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[info]mileshigh
2014-01-06 06:38 pm UTC (link)
Usually, and he did mean usually, when Mira insisted on being his date for the evening, she tended to stay within pinching distance. Or grabbing, or kissing. That was how these nights normally went, and he was quite looking forward to starting the New Year off in this fashion. Miles frowned, lifting up his mask to try and find his wayward date. She'd been wearing a rather sparkly get up, so it shouldn't be too hard to find her, but...

Ah!

His grin disappeared quickly as he caught sight of the look of distress on Mira's face. Miles dropped his drink onto the tray of a passing waiter, pushing through the crowd without apology. He looked back to where she'd come from--the loo?

"Mademoiselle!" he called out to her, trying to keep his tone light, even though he was growing increasingly concerned. "Made---Mira!"

Miles made a quick stride to cut in front of her, putting his hands out and breathing a bit heavily. His smile was cautious and he bounced from foot to foot to keep her in front of him. Mira was one of the few people he dared to care about, so if something had occurred in the dark corridor leading to the loo--he disliked the fact that his mind jumped to something of that nature, but his fists clenched nonetheless.

"Leaving me to fend for myself at midnight?" he said, eyebrows high.

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[info]jasper
2014-01-07 05:07 pm UTC (link)
Between the loo and the dance floor Mira had managed to wrap herself even further into frenzied alarm, resulting in a rather volatile and emotional manner of being. So, it was of little surprise that upon getting caught by Miles in her desperate attempt to leave unnoticed that she reacted poorly to the sight of him. Her eyes widened, and she almost automatically responded to him.

"I'm pregnant!" she blurted, actually unable to entertain any conversation topic less significant than the one currently encompassing her thoughts. He was worried about being left lonesome at midnight? Oh, well, then gladly she would gift him a legitimate concern to fret over! Mira pushed his hands away from her, as they were hovering dangerously close to her waist, and looked him straight in the eye. Her gaze may have been hallow, for nothing could truly distract her racing thoughts, but Mira attempted her very best at appearing wild.

She would have to start moving again, or else her legs would give way to their sickly nerves and collapse beneath her. Mira's hands went to her face for a moment, palms pushing into the side of her face as her mouth fumbled with what, if anything, else to say. There was always something to say, just like how there was always attention to be had, neither of which she appeared to want nor possess at the moment.

She was going to be sick. One hand flew to her stomach, and the other clamped over her own mouth. Stomach and throat boiling, Mira bent over enough for her hair to fall in front of her eyes. Stare broken with Miles, she took this moment as a chance to run, and immediately sought to do so. Using her shoulder like a battering ram, Mira thrust herself forward in hopes of becoming once again lost in the crowd.

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