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Post by Lyra Ophelia Genevieve Burke on Dec 28, 2017 6:33:54 GMT
 A girl should be two things classy and fabulous
The bright lights blinded her to the faces of the cheering crowd as she took her final bow. The movements of their clapping hands and the noise it created was an unmistakable applause as Lyra beamed, her chin high as her back straightened as she came back up again. She felt a flutter in her chest, that indescribable sense of adoration from her fans. She loved it. She craved it. The actors around her stepped back and Lyra bowed once more, basking in the glorious applause, supported by hoots and whistles and someone in the back of the theatre shouting her name. They loved her. The women wanted to be her and the men wanted to be with her. Nothing on this great green earth could replace the feeling of a standing ovation at the final curtain.
“Thank you,” she said with a practiced smile on her face as she passed a stagehand in the wings on her way to her green room. They all adored her, even her fellow thespians. Lyra couldn’t walk ten feet without someone telling her what a magnificent job she’d done tonight. She didn’t need telling, it was obvious in and of itself but still the congratulations were welcomed right up until the moment she shut her dressing room door and the noise of the theatre died away.
Reds, pinks, and purples covered the vanity, obscuring her view of the mirror as she sat on the plush little stool to tend to her face. Plucking the card from the center of the bouquet, Lyra gave a haughty grin as she read over the card, knowing instantly whose name would be signed at the bottom. Only one person called her his ‘golden goddess’ and while she quite liked the sound of the epithet, she didn’t much care for the man who had coined the phrase. She had dealt with worse offenders than this one, but her parents worried and had hired someone to keep this stalker away from her; clearly the body guard wasn’t doing his job properly. Lyra rose and moved to the door which led to the rest of the backstage. Pulling it open, she popped her head out and caught the eye of the first person to pass by. “Pardon, have you seen Rhys about?” Lyra would be having a chat with her father about her absentee body guard. She rolled her eyes as her question was answered. “Well ask about for him. I’ve got this bloody psychopath on me again.” She raised her hand flippantly, the card from her stalker on display. All the more attention on her, with the rest of the cast worried for her. Shutting the door again, Lyra threw the card in the bin and sat back in front of her vanity, admiring the beautiful flowers in front of her. He might have been a creep and a pervert, but her stalker did know a thing or two about arrangements. He never failed to get her something beautiful.
Her hair was perfect; long blonde curls that bounced as her hand ran over them, brushing them behind her shoulder. The makeup was a bit a heavy, as theatre makeup tended to be, so she pulled open the top drawer of her vanity and drew her wand. A few elegant rotations of the wrist and Lyra was ready to be seen outside of the playhouse. She changed out of her costume and put on her own clothing; a maroon skirt with a tight, black top that showed off a bit of her stomach. Pulling her fur-lined cloak over her shoulders, she left the flowers in her dressing room as she headed out a side door into a well-lit alley way that would lead her to the high street.
It was early still, only half past eleven, and Lyra was in high spirits after such an amazing performance. A good show did wonders for her energy level and tonight she felt like dancing. Turning towards the pounding thump of a bass, Lyra headed in the direction of the Charmed Nightclub. She walked straight past the queue out front and smiled at the door man, who let her inside after a kiss on the cheek and a compliment on her looks. The music was pulsating, and the lights swirled in a colorful haze around her. Lyra was given a private booth as she always was, and she flung her cloak over the seat as she ordered a cocktail and told the booth attendant to keep an eye on her things. Only moments later, Lyra was on the dance floor, letting the music take her over.
Tags: @open // Word Count: 773 // Outfit: J'adore // Notes:✬✬ |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2018 23:26:29 GMT
The Show Must Go On what if what you do to survive kills the things you love “ It wasn’t Jasper’s scene. That much was certain. The flashing lights, pulsing musing, various sweat soaked bodies jumping around that no magic could cool down. Here amongst the wild things, he mused, as one particularly colorful wizard walked by in spandex and glitter. It wasn’t as though Jasper was opposed to fun, or wild things, but he definitely stood out in the suit. He had ditched the tie and loosened the neck of his dress shirt opening up the collar. Were it not for the hot tip he received that a wizard he’d been chasing was headed to the nightclub, Jasper would be just about anywhere else. A sudden movement caught his eye, his honed instincts carefully in tune with his surroundings, his body prepared as a predator chasing and closing in on his prey. It was Donavon. A particularly ruthless dark wizard involved in muggle trafficking. Jasper had been on the man’s tail for a while now and was fortunate to have gotten a clear look at the “real” Donavon. The wizard had been using Polyjuice potion to conceal his dirty deeds resulting in a difficult capture. Jasper moved with practiced ease, not wanting to alert his foe. The quickest way to the man was through the dancefloor, but that wasn’t a straight shot either, as he would have to slither through the mosh pit of dancers swaying, grinding, and shaking to the beat. His best bet was to skirt around the perimeter in an inconspicuous fashion. At least that was the plan. He was spotted. “Shit.”
Their eyes met. Donavon knew why Jasper was there. He couldn’t apparate out of the building, and would at least need to get to the door. Don’t make me run.
Donavon took off throwing his drink to the floor and shoving people out of his way moving with slick aggressiveness to get to the door first.
“Fuck.”
Jasper’s reluctance to go around the crowd on the dance floor was pushed aside as he threw his entire 6’ 3” frame into the fray and tried to cut the other man off. He easily moved others out of the way, or rather mowed them down at his size, he felt liquid splash over him and realized he would smell like fire whiskey for the rest of the night, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the other female who was doused as well. Jasper had no time to apologize as he continued to cut a swath through the crowd following Donavon outside. His running slowed as he realized the dark wizard had reached the exterior before him. But he wouldn’t get far. While some auror’s had issues working across departments and preferred to work solitarily, Jasper only had control issues when it came to taking the lead. He had arranged to have a hit wizard squad surround the club and apprehend Donovan as soon as the man stepped outside – if Jasper couldn’t have the personal satisfaction of shutting the man down inside the club. Jasper smirked approaching his now struggling prisoner, held captive by three other wizards and one witch. He bent over the other wizard and briefly pat him down for weapons. The HWs had already done so, and Jasper wasn’t questioning their thoroughness, but he’d been injured in the past for letting his guard down. “Can’t run forever Donavon. You imprisoned dozens of muggles and sold them into hell. Guess it's your turn.”
Donavon struggled, “They’re just muggles” he fought and spat at the ground, “Cattle, and no better! You’ll see. You’ll all see!” he began laughing at the men and women surrounding him, “Something’s coming! It’s already here! This world made right again, and mudbloods back where they belong.”
Jasper had already begun walking back into the club, but Donavon’s parting words touched a nerve, and with the same swinging motion Jasper took in his next step he turned and brought his fist down on Donavon’s cheek. Donavon’s laughter stopped as the hit wizards dragged the now unconscious man away. Jasper’s brow furrowed, but he straightened his suit, dusted his hands and headed inside toward the bar to chip away at the gnawing truth of Donavon’s words. "Bourbon. Neat." he requested once he got the bartender's attention. ” |
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Post by Lyra Ophelia Genevieve Burke on Jan 20, 2018 21:14:52 GMT
A girl should be two things classy and fabulous
The people around her were gorgeous, though not as gorgeous as she, and Lyra was happy to press her body up against them as she swayed to the music. Closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the shoulder of whatever handsome stranger currently had his hands on her hips, a relaxed smile spread across her face. Lyra was in her element; attractive people, loads of attention, music, lights, and a buoyant energy that infected everyone around her.
She had finished a drink already, and hadn’t bothered to yet order another. Lyra didn’t like to get too drunk in public without someone around that she trusted to watch out for her. There were people in the world who were utterly obsessed with her, despite what her older sister might say with a superior looking roll of her eyes, and Lyra was smart enough to not give them any added incentive to think they could take advantage of her. Two was her max when she was alone, and she tried to space them out enough to create and maintain a nice buzz without affecting her ability to apparate home safely.
Apparently being responsible wasn’t enough to keep her safe from an assault. As Lyra turned to face her dance partner the man was shoved into her knocking her backwards into a girl who was foolish enough to bring a drink onto the dance floor. Fire whiskey flew into the air, arching like a rainbow before it came sloshing down on top of her 200 galleon designer top, splashing the stranger she’d been dancing with as well as the oaf who had run into the in the first place. The creep didn’t even have the decency to apologize as he continued running through the nightclub and toward the door.
Angrily, Lyra pushed away the man she had been dancing with – he clearly should have been able to stop all of this from happening – and made her way into the ladies toilets to attempt to clean herself up. Her shirt was soaked through and her top of her skirt was wet as well. “Brilliant,” she grumbled at her reflection in the poorly lit mirror. “Fan-bloody-tastic.” Lyra drew her wand from a pocket in her skirt that had been charmed to not bulge when holding something and whisked the liquor away. She smoothed her top and turned this way and that to ensure she had not missed any of the offending fire whiskey, then fluffed her hair, double-checked her makeup, and headed back out into the club.
As she stepped out of the loo, the bloke she’d been dancing with appeared, asking after her and offering to take her home. As if! Lyra rolled her eyes and walked past the man without a word, heading to the bar to complain to Jerome, the bartender, about the event and insist someone escort her home. “Are you going to dump that one on someone as well?” The man at the bar who had just ordered a bourbon was none other than the oaf who had caused the scene on the dancefloor a few minutes ago. Now that he wasn’t running like a maniac, Lyra could see he was actually quite an attractive oaf, older and full of muscles, but still an oaf.
Tags: @jaspers // Word Count: 548 // Outfit: J'adore // Notes:✬✬ |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 24, 2018 1:13:01 GMT
The Show Must Go On what if what you do to survive kills the things you love “ Jasper was exhausted mentally, which was at war with his body that was till amped for a fight. Hitting Donavon had relieved only the tip of the tension Jasper felt. This battle between masked blood purity crusaders and the ministry, as well as another unknown group of vigilantes, was stirring a lot of emotions in Jasper. His home was being ripped apart, and it wasn’t a safe place for his family. His sister had just returned home, and a part of him wanted to tell her to turn around and take the rest of the family with her. Not that she’d listen. Not that any of them would. Scamanders were fighters. It didn’t look like it on the surface, and with the lot of them being sorted into Hufflepuff most assumed they were fairly docile, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. They weren’t easily riled, well maybe Jasper was upon occasion if any of them were, but when called to fight they didn’t back down. They would do what was right and then take none of the credit and seek peace rather than glory. But Jasper would die if anything happened to them. It was his job to protect them – though no one had put that responsibility on his shoulders but him – and his job was getting harder. The adrenaline from apprehending the dark wizard and closing a case he had been working on for a few months was beginning to wear off, and the dark message the man had parted with caused a heaviness to form in Jasper’s chest. He needed a stiff drink and a distraction. He could find the stiff drink easily enough.And then there was a blonde. Distraction accomplished.Jasper turned to face her fully, “Excuse me?”He hadn’t understood her question with the music and the blood pumping through his body drowning out his ability to concentrate immediately on her question.
She was gorgeous. Many of the people in the club were, but the woman in front of him knew she was attractive. She was also well polished – money. Jasper could almost smell it off of the blond bombshell. It wasn’t that money wasn’t attractive either, it certainly accommodated the designer clothes over her perfectly designed figure, the well-manicured hands, flawless skin and so on, but money also meant danger. There was a certain level of expectation and entitlement, and something told Jasper that she was also accustomed to a lot of attention. How couldn’t she be with a face like that and a body like hers?Jasper was in trouble.” |
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Post by Lyra Ophelia Genevieve Burke on Jan 24, 2018 17:15:22 GMT
A girl should be two things classy and fabulous
Already in a sour mood from having her evening ruined by a clown running about in a crowded nightclub and wayward drinks being tossed about, potentially ruining her designer outfit, Lyra did not take kindly to the words coming from this handsome man’s mouth. His tone had been cordial enough in reality but to her annoyed ear it sounded as though he was getting smart with her. That simply would not stand. “Who do you think you are? You throw liquor on women and run away without a word, and expect no one to call you on your actions as you prepare another round?” The expression on her pretty face was that of indignation.
This was not how her evening was supposed to end. After such a roaring applause at the playhouse for her brilliant performance, she was supposed to have witches and wizards falling all over her to buy her drinks, not throw them in her face. Was she losing her touch that people would treat her so poorly? Instinctively, Lyra had the urge to run to her older brother and complain, to make him track this fool down and have him pay for tarnishing the memory of this evening for her, but she wasn’t a child any longer and she could take care of herself without having Lucian fight her battles for her.
“Jerome!” she called, turning her eyes from the incredibly handsome, incredibly rude stranger over to the bartender who was at the far end of the bar pouring a bourbon. “If you serve this sod another drink for him to throw around the dancefloor, I can very well take my business elsewhere.” Charmed was certainly not the only night club in London catering only to the magical community. It wasn’t even the only night club in Whimsic Alley. The Burkes had enough money to permanently reserve a private booth at any club, or a table at any restaurant they wanted, and Lyra did not need to be paying good money for the establishment to encourage these sorts of shenanigans.
Tags: @jaspers // Word Count: 343 // Outfit: J'adore // Notes:✬✬ |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 25, 2018 20:50:40 GMT
The Show Must Go On what if what you do to survive kills the things you love “ Trouble. Jasper confirmed in his head. But then, what the hell. Jasper liked trouble.Especially when it came in the form of a petite blonde.His eyes seemed to lighten at her commanding tone. He could tell it wasn’t the first time she had used a voice of authority, and it wouldn’t be the last. Rich girls. Rich beautiful girls were accustomed to getting their way.“Save yourself the trouble Jerome.” Jasper said, waiving the man off from pouring his drink. Finally, her words were catching up to him as he had been distracted by her more bountiful assets. Liquor. Thrown around. On women. On her. Come to think of it – though he hadn’t paid much mind to it at the time – she was near him when Jasper slammed into the idiot who brought their dance to the drink floor. Jasper was still wearing the firewhiskey on his own suit. His eyes drifted to the area of his suit that was stained and pungent.
Guilty as charged.
He had the decency to acknowledge his part in the fiasco and nodded toward her.“My deepest apologies. I’d offer to clean you up, but I see you’ve taken care of that yourself.” better than he had anyway, “Could I buy you a drink to make up for my bad behavior?”
His eyes were still light, tiny lines formed around them where he had smiled often as he was doing now, although a bit sheepishly.
At the end of the day Jasper was raised on a farm, by a mother who had been an auror, there was no room for bad manners, but plenty of room for charm.
Perhaps it was the farm boy back ground, but there was a sincerity in his actions and his charm that most men lacked. Jasper was polite to be polite, not to advance to the bedroom, and because of that sincerity it often took him to the bedroom. Sincerity, a chiseled jaw, and washboard abs. And a smile. Few men could smile like Jasper Ageis Scamander. It was a gift from the gods above.
He smiled at her then. The picture of good natured remorse, accepting her chastisement and offering a token of peace.
Yes, Jasper was a fighter and a lover, and he fought for what he loved. But blond bombshells deserved his love, he wouldn’t fight her or protest his innocence and claim his actions in the name of the greater good.” [/quote] |
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Post by Lyra Ophelia Genevieve Burke on Feb 4, 2018 22:46:01 GMT
A girl should be two things classy and fabulous
Watching Jerome shrug his shoulders and move on to the next bar patron was not enough for Lyra. It wasn’t simply enough that this handsome wanker not get a drink after such a disrespectful display. She wanted him thrown out on his arse. She wanted retribution for her potentially ruined top, despite the fact that she was able to get the liquor out before it stained her blouse. It was the principle of the thing and judging by his handsome features he was probably very familiar with getting his way. Attractive people normally were, but there was a vast difference between getting something you want and purposely ruining someone else’s night.
Lyra’s narrowed eyes watched as the wizard looked down at himself, apparently just realizing he was wearing a glassful of firewhiskey on his suit. Who wears a suit to a nightclub? What sort of snobbish bore would think the businessman look was suitable – no pun intended – for dancing and drinking and making bad decisions with attractive strangers? Lyra enjoyed dressing up as much as the next witch, but she wouldn’t be caught dead in Charmed wearing a ball gown. Clearly this bloke was a total nutter. Shame all the hot ones were married or crazy.
An apology. Finally! Typically this wouldn’t be enough to placate Lyra, as most people who apologized after some offensive act were only doing so because it was expected or because they were afraid of what might happen if they didn’t. Lyra herself couldn’t do much of anything, but her family was well connected, and she wanted this man to pay for his rudeness she could certainly make it happen. “I suppose it is the least you could do,” she answered to his offer of buying her a drink.
Tags: @jaspers // Word Count: 296 // Outfit: J'adore // Notes:✬✬ |
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Post by Deleted on Feb 5, 2018 4:03:41 GMT
The Show Must Go On what if what you do to survive kills the things you love 344 words Mood: Apologetic “ Jasper’s apology wouldn’t have been any more sincere had he known she was part of the illustrious Burke family. He didn’t bow to blood or money, and he was genuinely sorry to have interrupted her evening of fun even if she had been a pauper – which she clearly wasn’t. He made a gesture for her to sit if she so wanted and reached his hand in the air to get Jerome’s attention once more. He gave the man a smile to let him know it was relatively safe for him to approach. The Burke family was indeed powerful, and he wouldn’t have made things difficult for the establishment if he could help it, so placating the beautiful blonde was more than just a genuine pleasure. When Jerome managed his way back to them he scanned both warily, but with a practiced eye that said he had seen too many things happen at the nightclub to really be shocked by anything anymore. “If you could get the lady a drink, on me, to apologize for my boorish behavior on the dance floor please.”As he spoke he withdrew a small concealed pouch that was attached to his belt and charmed to lay flat. His badge flashed briefly while he withdrew the bag in preparation to retrieve the coins necessary to pay for the drink, thus revealing his profession and probable business at the club – including the reason for his pretentious clothing. Jerome nodded and turned his attention to Lyra, “What’ll it be Miss Burke?”Jasper’s head tilted a bit as Lyra’s identity was exposed. He’d heard the name, knew he knew the family, but was trying to determine where he had seen the face before. It took less than five seconds to determine her full identity. He was sure he had seen her name on a poster recently, very recently, just outside actually, a little bit down the street where the theater was. She was one of the leads, unsurprisingly by the look at her. An understanding dawned in his eyes as he nodded slightly. ” |
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Post by Lyra Ophelia Genevieve Burke on Feb 12, 2018 6:34:43 GMT
A girl should be two things classy and fabulous
Still wary of this man’s intentions but temporarily placated by his seemingly sincere apology and offer to buy her a drink, Lyra moved to the stool nearest the handsome blond. She placed her heel on the bar at the bottom of the chair and pushed herself up, sliding gracefully into the tall seat. She was closer to the man now, and she could better see his eyes; a sterling blue that made Lyra a little weak in the knees. The proximity, however, also meant that she could better smell him and he smelled as though he had rolled around the inside of a cask of whiskey.
Jerome was once more flagged down to their side of the bar and Lyra brushed her curls over the back of her shoulder with her left hand and a glint of something shiny caught her eye. A badge. He was in law enforcement though the badge was only visible for a moment and one that was simply too quick for Lyra to read what sort of law he enforced. For all she knew he was with the Department of Magical Food and Drug and only here because of a report of rodents or something gross yet completely boring. She didn’t think so, though, judging by his build. He had arms the size of tree trunks and Lyra suspected that wasn’t the only sizable item on his person, and her eyes quickly traveled below his waist before flashing back up to his baby blues.
Jerome interrupted her thoughts and she blinked as she turned to face the bartender and leaned forward to place her drink order. “Apple martini,” she said with a smile, loud enough for Jerome to hear her over the music and the crowd of people around them. The second Jerome confirmed that he had heard her, Lyra’s gaze was once again set upon the blond. “Do you have a name or are you trying to keep your identity a secret so I don’t go to your boss to file a complaint?” Her eyes flicked once again to where the badge had before been visible. “Officer,” she finished, a cheeky little grin appearing at the corners of her mouth.
Tags: @jaspers // Word Count: 366 // Outfit: J'adore // Notes:✬✬ |
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