Ringing in the New Year {Open}

[Anne Fernsby]

31 December 2011
Lure
11:30 p.m.
Outfit

It wasn't often that Anne bothered with things like clubbing or barhopping, but there were usually two exceptions to her typical abstinence: Christmas and New Years'. It wasn't as though she was invited to many Christmas parties and she avoided her parents' shindigs. She hated putting on smiles and walking around looking pretty while being asked about when she was going to finally settle down. She personally believed having a successful career underway and a nice studio apartment of her own was settled down enough for her. She was thirty, didn't plan on ever having children (and never had), and figured men were probably more trouble than they were worth. (She'd only watched her mother mother her father for the past thirty years, read about three of her sister's failed teenage relationships, and seen her two closest friends grow up and marry Prince Charming only to divorce.) So, she'd never bothered. She'd flirt, dance with, or have a drink with, but other than that, nothing appealed to her. Besides, her only crush was currently (and likely forever at this rate) taken. Maybe that's why she'd felt safe enough to crush. If that's what this was.

This was often the same reason why she made an exception for New Years' Eve. Family shindigs were abundant as someone hosted a charity ball in which rich people drank champagne until they thought they were young again and started hitting on her while pledging out millions of galleons. Last year, her mother had tried to convince her to not only come to her charity party but also to put herself up for auction. That was when she'd made last years' plans (and those for every year following). There was no way she was going to sit down with some random man who was enough of a pig to bid on an evening with a woman. If he couldn't get himself a girl without money, then what worth did he have anyway? "Sadly," her mother was angry with her for about a month over her refusal and hardly spoke to her except through her sister who would relay that her mother felt she was far too feminist for her own good and would never net down a good man or be worth much. And here Anne thought she'd only been standing up for her own sense of dignity.

Her mother would disagree with her attire tonight. A form-fitting, short dress that shimmered of golds and silvers with silver heels and a silver clutch. She'd at least had sense enough to pack a shawl and some slip-on shoes into her clutch. The wonders of magic. So much could be put in such a small space.

Sighing, Anne set her clutch down and kicked off her heels. From the neck down, she looked good. Hell, her face looked good. Her make-up was done and her dress hugged all the right places. But her hair. She never knew what to do with that. Usually, it was just teased and pulled back into a bun. Now, it hung down to just above her mid-back, straight as can be. No volume, no nothing. A little frizziness was forming, too. She hated her hair, but she had to tame it somehow. She skimmed through a magazine until she found something manageable. It was a bit severe, but severe usually looked good on her and required minimal work. She pulled out her usual bobby pins and set to work. By the time she was finished, her blonde hair was pulled flat to her head, secured by bobby pins and plenty of hair product, except for the top part, which was fashioned into a ponytail of sorts without a hair tie. It was, as a result, straight. Hopefully the product would hold or else she would be screwed in an hour or so.

Jewelry was the last to go on. She kept it simple. Some silver and gold bangles on her right wrist and some dangling earrings completed her look.

Satisfied with her appearance, the woman slipped back on her heels, grabbed her clutch, and then glanced at her reflection. She looked damned good if she said so herself. Quite a change from the usual pencil skirts and button-down blouses. Enough that she doubted many would recognize her from work--not that she cared. She wanted to let loose and not worry tonight. Even if it was a late start to her evening due to a few last minute things that had come up at work followed by a nice dinner for herself at a sit-down restaurant, complete with dessert.

The line wasn't bad by the time she got there, and after a quick flash of her blood paperwork, she was allowed in. It was straight to the bar with her. No need to waste time pretending she wasn't here to get drunk.

[Sebastian Lafayette]

New Year’s Eve. It was the most hectic and craziest night at the club, but it was also one of the funnest. The crowed that generally showed up was of the fun variety – not that the normal every day crowd was dull. This crowd though; this crowd wad out for a celebration. And even though that meant a ridiculously long shift, it also meant good tips. So when an extra shift needed to be filled, resulting in a double, Bast didn’t think twice. Besides, he owed the guys anyway for the amount of times they had covered a shift for him so he could go treasure hunting.

Since it was expected to be a really good night, the boys and him had spent the morning getting things into tip top shape, giving the place a thorough cleaning before making sure the bar was stalked with everything they would need and making sure the back store room was stalked as well so if they did run out of something they would have to run all the way to the basement stores to get stuff. Once all that was done Bast quickly headed up to his room on the second floor in order to get in a quick shower and a fresh change of clothes before heading back down to start his second shift.

People had started trickling in around 6:00pm and had remained steady until around 9:00pm. By 10:00p.m., there was a substantial line outside according to one of the two bouncers stationed up at the entrance and the bar had been going crazy since. Between filling orders for the waitresses and fetching this or that for those that were standing/seated at the bar there was little time for idle chatter, though the bartender still made an attempt when he was able.

He was in the process of making a whiskey sour when he caught a glimpse of a blonde beauty heading his way. The silver dress she wore hugged her curves in all the right ways and honestly Bast couldn’t figure out how she didn’t have a guy attached to her arm as arm candy or something. The bartender slyly nudged one of his co-workers out of the way once he figured out where exactly the mystery woman was going to land. Hell, if anyone was going to fetch her drinks all night he wanted it to be him. ”Evening love, what can I get you?”


{Probs not my best but I haven’t posted as Bast in ages. Might take me a few to get back in the swing of things}

[Elena Fairchild]

I'm just a girl, what's my destiny?

Elena purred and sank under the spell-heated water. She knew hot spring temperature water was bad for her skin but once in a while was worth it, mentally preparing her for the night ahead. New Year's Eve, partying the night away with the rest of the world. It was part of her ritual to feel the very best, erase all the worries of work. A hot bath, with lavender scented soap, a nice long soak, was just what she needed.

Hickory, dickory dock. The mouse ran up the clock. The clock struck 10, the mouse ran down. Hickory, dickory dock.

Elena sat up out of tub quickly, splashing water onto the tile floor. What time was it? The clock on the wall stared at her. Ten already? She must have fallen asleep, though the water had not cooled by very much. There was still so much to do to get ready. She dashed from one end of her flat to the other, desperately towel-drying her hair and body, not caring she was dripping water all over the place. The maid would get it.

Ugh. She had half an hour to make it out of her flat before her mother or Madame showed up to drag her to one of their events. If she hadn't taken fallen asleep, she wouldn't be in this predicament. It wasn't like she didn't enjoy being with the other girls, but they tended to chatter on about inane, useless stuff, especially once the booze got flowing, and the holidays were just another way for her mother to try and reign her back into the fold. No, thank you. She'd heard enough slander about her occupation from the general public.

Thankfully, she had already picked out her outfit before she stepped into her bathtub, greatly reducing preparation time and relieving her stress. She slipped into her dress, a strapless, slim black number with a silver design just under her breasts, providing lift and decoration. On her feet did a pair of black pumps fit, while she spelled her hair a dark red color, letting the locks finish drying into soft waves. For jewelry and makeup, she kept it minimal; bright red lipgloss; small, silver hoop earrings; and three silver wrist bangles. Her neck could go bare tonight; it wasn't too horrible of an effect.

A black and silver clutch, spelled to be larger on the inside and packed with a sweater, a pair of comfortable shoes, a water bottle, and some snacks, completed the ensemble. One final look in the mirror, an extra swipe of lip gloss, and Elena deemed herself acceptable for the night life. With a wink, a smirk, and three minutes to spare, she left her cozy little flat for a wilder destination.

Lure, nightclub extraordinaire. Well, not really, but it was famous and popular enough for a New Year's celebration. A little dancing, a little flirting, a little drinking and things would be fine. The line outside was horrible, though expected at this time of night. Normally, she wouldn't be the type to cut in line, but considering other people were doing so when the bouncers weren't looking, Elena slipped in with a former client of hers. It would be a while before she would be inside, but that was alright. It was time to hear all sorts of juicy gossip her friend had for her. Speaking of gossip, she wondered what sort of drama would happen in the club tonight that would fuel her girls for the next week.

Outift
Hair color

[Anne Fernsby]

((Yay, Bast!))

Anne smiled and looked up, more out of habit than anything, when she heard someone speaking to her. At least the service seemed to be prompt here. She'd barely squeezed her way into a corner bar stool when the bleach blond bartender spoke to her. While he might look a little punk-ish because of his hair, his voice was certainly smooth and kind on the ears. (The nice thing about wizarding bars, she reflected--a simple charm kept the music volume dampened around areas intended for talking and enjoying conversation or a drink.) "I'll have a champagne, please," she said after a glance at her left wrist reminded her she wore bangles rather than a watch. She played it off as nothing, bringing her arm to rest across the bar top. "And a quick wipe down, if you don't mind," she added as she moved her forearm away from the glossy wooden surface and began to lightly touch it to ensure the remnants of the spilled beverage had not stickied her skin. It had, of course, left a light trace just where her forearm began to widen from her wrist. She'd ask to use the cloth first, of course.

Anne sighed and looked around the club for any indicator of the time. She spotted one on the wall across from her and leaned over just enough to barely be able to make it out. It was clearly meant for staff benefit rather than a patron's. 11:50-ish was what she decided it must be before she gave up and sat back, leaning against the wall to her right and lightly crossing her arms as she looked around.

The dance floor looked crowded, full of people grinding against each other. Anne could only imagine how warm it had to be out there, especially given the fact most of those people were probably already four sheets to the wind or close to it. Still, it looked fun and she'd have to venture out there soon. Last year, she'd been right in the middle of it when the clock had struck midnight. Everyone's eyes were to the countdown magically projected on the ceiling and there had been plenty of kissing and cheering. It had been exhilarating enough to get her to simply allow the bloke she'd been dancing with to give her a New Year's kiss. The night had ended much differently than any other night she had had before or since, and it had been hellish trying to keep her eager mother off her back trying to find out what had prompted the change. And it was all her little sister's fault. Lillian had told her mother, "Isn't it obvious, mummy? Anne finally had a good shag!" After her mother's pointed look, she had insisted, "What? It's true!" And so the questioning had begun.

There was no way this year would be allowed to begin so adventurously. Never mind the fun. Her mother's questioning had lead to her admission that, yes, she had slept with someone, but no, he wasn't coming 'round again. Then, her mother had begun questioning Anne's emotional well-being. Merlin! As though she had to feel down about the fact the man wasn't coming around. But nope. None of that for her this year. 2012 would begin with much less familial drama. Now, where was that champagne?

[Sebastian Lafayette]

Bast nodded at her request, reaching above the counter to pull a champagne glass off the decorative rack that hung from the roof. He then set it down on the counter just as the woman asked for a quick wipe down after it appeared she had set her arm down on the remnants of someone’s drink. And here he thought they had been keeping up with mess control. ”Sure, thing,” he said as he reached below the counter and pulled out a clean damp rag, handing it to her so that she could wipe her arm off before he quickly wiped down the area in front of where she sat. ”Sorry about that, it’s been a bit busier than usual, not that that’s a real surprise considering the occasion.”

The bartender offered her a smile before seemingly producing a bottle of champagne out of nowhere and set it down in front of him. There was none of his usual flare that he was usually willing to show off when he was pouring from a bottle, but long ago he had learned there were certain things that came in a bottle that could be considered temperamental when given a good shake. That and he didn’t exactly want to get covered in the stuff and he was certain neither did the lovely lady. A fairly decent pop signaled the cork pulling free and Sebastian wasted no time in filling the glass and sliding it over to her. ”That everything?”

”Oi, Bast! Toss me a bottle of rum!”

Sebastian looked over at his fellow bartender and laughed before tossing the man the requested bottle. It sailed through the air in a lazy arc that was easily caught before being sent in to a routine that was meant to dazzle the crowed at the fair end of the bar. Judging by the cheers the man was receiving, Bast guessed he’d just put on quite the show. He shook his head and glanced over to the only clock in the place he could see before turning his attention back to Anne. ”Might I suggest that if you want to hit the dance floor that you make a break for it now while everyone is coming in for a refill. You might not make it out there otherwise if you want to make the count down.”

[Anne Fernsby]

Anne shrugged at the man's explanation. To her, it was unnecessary as it was easy to deduce. However, she gave him a smile as she handed the rag back. "Thank you," she said, her smile widening momentarily in response to his. It was a nice smile. She cleared her throat lightly, slightly embarrassed at the wayward thought. She was used to thinking of men as co-workers. Except Markus where she'd permit the random thought at times when it wouldn't interfere with whatever work they were doing, which inevitably meant when he wasn't in the room. It was far too strange to have such thoughts around a co-worker, especially when she knew he was married and the thoughts would do her no good in the long run. She cleared her throat again. Maybe her mum was right. She needed a steady boyfriend--or at least a "friend." Then again, the thought was ridiculous. She was perfectly fine on her own. It wasn't too terribly often she found herself wishing for a man in her life anyway, and she didn't have the time.

"That everything?"

Anne hadn't really paid attention as the bartender had poured her drink. It was only champagne, after all, so there was rarely anything fancy someone tried to do, and honestly, if someone was idiotic enough to try that, she wasn't so sure she wanted to watch. She looked back over, instinctively asking, "Hmm?" before realizing and smiling. "For now, thank you," she replied.

The shouted request drew Anne's attention momentarily before she looked back out at the dance floor, figuring the bartender would leave now. It was busy, after all, and it wasn't like she had come here to bare her soul to a bartender. If she wanted that, she'd have had to come on another night, some night that wasn't tonight. She turned her attention back to the bartender as he spoke again, a little surprised he was still talking to her. She reached for her champagne as she listened and took a sip. "A good idea," Anne agreed. "Perhaps I will." She flashed him a smile as she slid out of her stool then grabbed her clutch and her champagne glass. Maybe she'd just stay toward the outskirts. Far enough in to have fun and be part of the group rather than a reluctant participant but still out enough to be able to leave after the ball ringing without having to be squished and stepped on and everything else. "See ya," she said, giving the man a wink and walking off.

((Elena is outside the club still at the end of her post, yes?))

[Sebastian Lafayette]

The remaining hours ticked by relatively fast and before he knew it people were heading back out to the dance floor, drinks in hand, in order to be in the thick of things when the countdown started. This had the nice upside of leaving the bar area fairly devoid of people other than the bartending crew. Finally, a bit of breathing room, and it gave everyone a chance to restock and clean up a bit.

It was clear that the excitement of the impending New Year was contagious. Everyone had smiles and seemed to be in good humor and having fun; even those that were working tonight. That in itself brought a grin to the bartenders face. It was nice to see his crew doing what they were good at.

Since he was feeling like doing a bit of celebrating himself, Bast grabbed 7 shot glasses and lined them up in front of him, quickly filling them with a nice rum, as he waved his guys over. It wasn’t like it was going to hurt his pocket book none and the way Bast figured, his guys deserved it. They all toasted just as the clock struck midnight and Bast downed his shot easily. Once that was done he jokingly told them all to get back to work. Now that the party had truly begun he was certain they would keep busy until close.

[Anne Fernsby]

She ought to listen to pretty blond men with semi-strange yet still nice accents a little more often. At least, that was what Anne thought as she made her way with the crowd toward the bar and bounded toward her stool she'd abandoned for the new years festivities. The excitement of the crowd had been exhilarating even toward the outer part where Anne had ended up stuck as the ball dropped along with some group of young single girls who had been dancing together. They had knocked back champagne with her and then walked with her back to the bar to get some more to drink, though they seemed to have stopped to talk with some tall redhead halfway back. She sighed. So much for some company--not that 18-year-old girls were usually her type.

Anne sighed as she sat back down, looking for the blond she had left behind here. Hopefully he'd not be too swarmed, though from the way she was being pushed around in her seat as people pushed their way between her seat and the next one to get attention, she might have a while to wait. So, wait she did for the bar to clear out. About fifteen minutes later, it finally did, and she attempted to catch the bloke's eye, brushing a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear and flashing him a smile as she did. Hopefully that would be enough.

[Sebastian Lafayette]

The next fifteen minutes passed in a blur for the bartender, which was about how long it took for the crowd to finally think out and head back to the dance floor, drinks in hand. Finally! A moment to breath. The moment, he knew, wouldn’t last long, a fact that was proven not more than a minute later when a server brought back a tray full of empties. Bast made quick work of the pile. A decided benefit of working in a wizarding bar, was that you could use magic to get the dishes done. The bartender only had a few left when he caught a glimpse of movement out of his peripheral vision. Assuming it was another customer he made short work of the glass he was currently holding before turning to see who his newest arrival was.

It was a pleasant surprise to see it was the blonde beauty that had come by earlier. His smile matched hers as he made his way over, grabbing a Champaign bottle as he did in case she was wanting a refill. ”Nice seeing you again luv. Had enough of that?” As he said the last he inclined his head in the direction of the packed dance floor. ”Can I get you something? Another glass of Champaign maybe?”

[Anne Fernsby]

"Indeed," Anne replied with a smile. "Either the crowds are getting younger and younger or I'm getting..." she contemplated the proper word before finishing decisively, "...pickier." She sighed and set down her glass before shaking her head at his offer. "No," she declared over the music. "No, I think tonight calls for something stronger!" She smirked and brushed a stray piece of hair back behind her ear. "Surprise me." Honestly, champagne was a little too dry for the moment and certainly not strong enough to get her in the mood she wanted to be in. She wanted a fun night--something worth remembering rather than regretting the next morning when she was vomiting. Anne made a face at that thought. I'll just have to drink more water, she decided.

Of course, that wouldn't take care of everything. She was going to be 31 in March, after all, not twenty-one. "Merlin, I'm getting old," she muttered to herself and placed her face in her hands for a moment before parting them and resting her chin in them as she watched the bartender. "Anne, by the way," she said. May as well give him another option to call her--not that "luv" was particularly bad. It was sort of endearing, especially coming from him.