a late autumn wasp

[baedalites.livejournal.com]

Who: Everyone!
What: A harvest festival and talent show.
Where: Howl Barrow
When: Misdi, the first of Maryden.
Notes: Players are encouraged to invent NPCs, talent acts, or have their characters participate in the show. Have questions? Need to plot more? There's an OOC post for that.

The Zygoda squats in Howl Barrow like an extravagant toad, weighted down by enough decorative architecture to make a baroque angel blush. Live colourful birds - of which an alarming number appear to be cockatoos - roost between the columns and pillars of the facade. The light-up sign outside declares THIS NIGHT ONLY AT THE ZYGODA; AUTUMNAL FESTIVITIES; AMATEUR NIGHT; EVERYONE WELCOME; HARVEST PIES!

The street beneath it has turned into a carnival in its own right; there are tents and stalls selling anything from fortunes told, candy, face paint, and odd little handicrafts. There are street performers and vaudeville artists putting on shows that invite bystanders to join in. The crowd appears to be in a good mood, happy perhaps to be able to let lose and blow off some steam in a friendly context for once. Some wear masks, others are dressed in finery, and others still look like they just got out of work. No one seems to mind either way. The theatres doors stand open, inviting those who wish to step inside.

Comments

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"The real question is, what did you use the galleons for?" Njoki chuffs and nudges Dolohov in the ribs as someone tries to kiss the carp and tips over a little too far, getting stuck half-way into the bubble of water.

They should totally give that a try, what could go wrong?

[neverrundry.livejournal.com]

Antonin claps a hand on Njoki's shoulder and beckons with the other - come closer. He lowers his voice as though sharing a potentially devastating secret. "Two bottles of Old Ogden's finest Firewhiskey and a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans."

With that admission, he roars with laughter as though it's the funniest thing he has ever heard in his life.

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

While not entirely sure what either of those things are, Njoki is still able to share in the joke. She's always been quick to find humour and is the first to admit that a good laugh is infectious. Of course, once she gets to laughing, her whooping giggle is a bit strange and usually gets a few looks.

"Brilliant. Were you good enough to share with the poor sold-off husband? Or did you keep it all for yourself?"

[neverrundry.livejournal.com]

The giggle coming from his heretofore-assumed-male companion leaves Antonin feeling rather wrong-footed. He doesn't want to ask, however, because after all, some people just have strange laughs.

Instead, he focuses on the question and shakes his shaggy head. "Kept it all to myself. No one cares much for Barty, you see. He -" He pulls a grimace, as though trying to figure out just how to explain Barty. "He did this thing with his tongue."

He mimics the darting motion with his own tongue, exaggerating it, his eyes going wide with each swipe. "Like cracking your knuckles, but he did it during conversations."

And this was good reason for selling Barty to a hag for three galleons and not sharing the resulting purchases.

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

Njoki wrinkles up her nose in distaste. She's got her own odd habits, but thankfully that is not among them.

"I knew a man that would lick at the corners of his mouth when he was nervous and he was always scared of some damn thing or other," she says with a chuff and other dismissive expression. They should both rejoice in their perfect normalcy, right? "I'm Ki, eh?"

[neverrundry.livejournal.com]

He has his own bad habits, as well, but there's just something about Barty's 'tongue thing' which sets him (and others, he suspects) on edge. Barty's eyes go a little too wide, his insanity a little too contrived. Antonin thinks he probably does it to get a rise out of people. The obnoxious younger brother, plying for attention by being obnoxious.

"Ki," he echoes, then holds out one large hand. He has no compunctions about being friendly with the filthy Muggles of the world. Just so long as they stay in their place. "Antonin. Been here..."

He trails off, then shrugs. A few days, a week. He's not so sure.

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"'Bout the same. Bit longer, probably," she says, taking his hand and shaking. Antonin might notice that her temperature runs a bit hot and her hands are one of the few visible areas of skin that aren't intentionally scarred.

"These days, I'm from Mafaton."

[neverrundry.livejournal.com]

"Think I'm from Sobek Croix," he responds, noting her scars and the lack of them on her hands with a frown. He writes it off, however, as a story for another time. First meetings and all.

"Been kipping with the Malfoys. The younger Lucius." With a snort, he goes on, "Not sure that means much. They're both ponces."

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"I don't know them, but I'm sure they can't be that bad," she says with a tone implying that he really ought to continue the story and expound on just how poncy they are.

[neverrundry.livejournal.com]

"You think so?" he asks with a laugh. "Listen. Lucius - back in our world, he's got this manor house. It's a bloody estate, and if you can't fit London proper in it, I'll eat my wand. And what does this prat do with his money, you ask?" She hasn't asked, but he's going to detail it, anyway.

"Peacocks. A couple of those white ones just roam about on his land like he's the Queen of Sheba."

He produces his flask again and, before drinking from it, mutters, "Acts like it, doesn't he?"

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"I don't understand the problem. If I had more money than God, you know I'd send everyone a white peacock in the mail. Maybe with a tasteful card attached." Maybe not. Wouldn't do to go overboard, you know how it is.

"Are you telling me your do anything different?"

[neverrundry.livejournal.com]

Antonin gives the flask a shake, indicating that he would buy himself a good deal of liquor. Then again, with that much liquor, he would probably send everyone a white peacock in the post.

"You have to meet him to understand." A beat passes and he adds sagely, "He's very British."

Because this is, of course, a very good explanation for Lucius's behaviour.