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suspected changeling & make-believe mermaid (peophin) wrote in valesco,

There were flowers in her hair and a drink in her hand. One of those things Penelope was not supposed to have (the drink), but she was going to relinquish neither—even if, strictly speaking, she wasn't supposed to have alcohol in the event that it interacted adversely with her potion regimen. She had forgotten about that precisely one drink ago, but did have the remaining good sense to ensure she ate something.

Relieved that the party was outdoors, Penelope had summoned the courage to come at Kera's behest, wanting very much to congratulate Adian. And aside from Kera's visits, there had been few friendly faces in the last four months. While she did now get to see other forms of life three to four times weekly, beautifying the alleyways of Knockturn Alley was not quite ripe with opportunities for socialising.

However, explaining her recent absence to curious people (the nastiest case of Cerebrumous Spattergroit) was getting rather old, as was answering what she was doing with her life these days (lying, evidently). To soothe her nerves, she made flower bouquets and crowns with Hestia Jones, but when that had not relieved the irritation, a pretty pink drink that seemed to glitter in the firelight had done the trick.

Blinking at the wizard's dilemma before her, Penelope looked up and thought, was that—? Before his name even entered her mind, there was the dull heat of a flush creeping up her cheeks. In a kneejerk reaction, she lowered her eyes in shyness, but when she peered up at him through her lashes, there was a certain slyness to the slant of her eyes.

"It's metaphorically explosive, isn't it?" she asked. "Sometimes, you can't tell."