#qd:starter

[selenaxnewf]

“If you’re here to talk to me about Puddlemere’s losses, I suggest you wait until the next edition of Seeker Weekly comes out. I’ve already said everything I care to on the subject.”

[obviouslyorion]

“This wind’s a curse, isn’t it? I think I saw a man’s hairpiece blow off earlier -- -  not to mention all the bloody trash flying about.” Not only that, but it had tousled Orion’s robe to the point that he regretted bothering with the cloak entirely. He’d felt dragged in every possible direction before he entered the stadium, though it took very little to fix himself. Cane in one hand, cloak slung over the other, he turned to the nearest person who seemed to be within earshot. “Hopefully it’ll knock Puddlemere off their guard, right?” That was putting it lightly. If anything, he rather hoped it would send one of Puddlemere’s players careening into the nearest tower. 

[lizablythe]

Maybe a beer and a burger weren’t the best combination for a person trying to get back on their broomstick, but considering she’d done just that an hour ago, Eliza felt like she deserved it. Still dressed in Chudley warmups, hair tied back in a messy bun, she weaved her way along the crowded street in search of that perfect post-workout meal.

And promptly rammed right into someone, because she’d been too busy window-shopping. Predictably, it was a broomstick that had caught her eye, and she tore her gaze away just in time to steady the person she’d bumped into. “Shit, sorry.” She smiled apologetically. “Wasn’t looking.”

[edisonbeaumont]

Edison had only just turned down a rowdy group of wizards who offered to buy him a pint, hanging halfway off the patio of the bar as he walked down the relatively quiet sidewalk. Much like London, Dublin was a hub for the wizarding community. Judging by the accents that had accosted him, however, the lads were definitely Irish & not some fly ins for the match. Regardless, Edison had politely refused the offer with something about needing his wits about him for the match tomorrow. The Cannons owner gave them a wave over his shoulder, to-go box balanced in his other hand, as their raucous continued to spill into the street in a drunken rendition of a ‘cross our fingers & hope for the best’ chant.. “Damn Irish am I right?” Edison asked the person coming down the sidewalk, brows lifting in mild exasperation.

[beaumontjemma]

With a look that could only be considered “bored, bordering on homicidal”, Jemma glared at her reflection in the (probably charmed to be too flattering) mirror of Madam Malkin’s. “So give it to me straight, think this will manage to shut up my mother, the pickiest priss in the entire damn world, or should I give up the shopping and show up to dinner in gym clothes? I don’t even think it would surprise her at this point. I’ve done worse.”

[selenaxnewf]

Eeylops Owl Emporium wasn’t the kind of place Selena would normally choose to frequent for herself, but unfortunate circumstances had brought her back to Diagon Alley and into the dimly-lit store whose only soundtrack seemed to be the soft clicking and hooting of its many feathery residents. Standing in front of a gilded cage whose latch she had been testing for the past few minutes, Selena muttered her way through a half-whispered list of complaints that she normally wouldn’t have thrown on her companion without so much as a proper warning. “I have done more for women in quidditch than most teams have in hundreds of years. But nobody wants to talk about that, do they? It’s always ‘Oh, Selena, did your husband make you interested in sports?’ or ‘Does Wood help you figure out who to trade?’ Then today, someone has the audacity to ask if I’m going to sell the team if they start losing again. Like this is some kind of bloody hobby instead o-- -”

Selena’s tangent ground itself to a halt as she stepped away from the cage and turned to the place her companion had been only moments before. “... She’s gone.” How long had she been monologuing to herself? A cursory glance around the shop revealed that her friend -- - if one could call Cordelia that - -- had wandered off somewhere amongst the owls, obviously seeking an out in a conversation that didn’t interest her in the slightest. Selena was left by herself, muttering like a madwoman who’d managed to escape the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungos.

Catching the eye of the nearest person, she looked them over and decided they were within earshot. “That’s off the record,” she added as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “But all of it still stands.”

[selenaxnewf]

+ Selena

By the time she’d finished giving out quotes and backhanded condolences, Selena had decided it best to purge the phrases ‘terribly thrilled’ and ‘incredibly proud’ from her vocabulary. The repetition alone made her realize what she hated about the press, but she soaked up the limelight and departed from the crowd of reporters just as she felt the questions and her company were growing stale. 

On the fringes of the excitement, she had time to breathe and to gather her wits about her. The first person she saw without a quill in hand was addressed with the very same smug, over-the-top pride that she’d handed out freely to Quidditch Daily, Seeker Weekly and The Daily Prophet. “Great game, wasn’t it?” Depending on her company, the tone of her statement would teeter somewhere between congratulatory and conciliatory, though her pride kept the corners of her mouth pulled upward in childish glee, “Everyone did their best.” For Puddlemere, their best had absolutely pummeled Chudley into the ground. For Chudley... Well, every match had to have a loser. Still, Selena indicated the throng of reporters some distance away, “I’m curious about what they’ll have to say tomorrow. Any guesses?”

[selenaxnewf]

"Did you see that?” Selena touched the elbow of the person nearest her, doing best to subtly nod in the direction of a costume that could only have been described as ridiculous. “What do you think they are? It looks like my nan trying to cross-dress.”