If Merlin himself had told Chance twenty years ago that in 2026 he would be standing at the entrance of a huge tent waiting to greet a mass of his former classmates for a party that he and his wife were hosting, the man probably would've shouted a string of expletives before super-AKing him, making a journey to find the Resurrection Stone to bring him back to life, then super-AKing him again. Nevemind that he would've only been eleven years old at the time. He would've found a way, damnit, because everything about that situation sounded like something from a nightmare. Having a wife, for one thing. A bloody party. Former classmates. Greeting people!
As it was, this was the man's current and incredibly unfortunate reality. He was leaning against one of the roman columns that Bahh had ordered to be placed at the large opening of the extravagantly decorated party tent, suited up in his finest formal attire, cup of rum in hand (honestly, he'd had a drink in his hand since about noon), and already counting down the minutes until this whole ordeal was over. They were in a large clearing of Epping Forest, an ancient woodland which was actually quite nice to look at this time of year despite the fact that it was nature and hot. It had been a mild day for summer, considering, and the night was cooling rapidly as the sun was setting. The inside of the tent was perfectly comfortable, though. He could feel a decent draft drifting from the doorway.
This party had been in development for months, shortly after Isabella began attending Hogwarts in September. In all the anticipation for her daughter’s first days at school, Bahh had apparently started feeling nostalgic and brought up the idea for a large gathering of old schoolmates, to catch up and reconnect and all that rubbish. Being the supportive, adoring (and not really listening) kind of husband he is, Chance told her that it was an excellent idea. At first, the plan was only for the alumni from Slytherin house, each with a plus one, to attend, but word seemed to have spread quickly and soon they began receiving RSVPs from people they neither knew nor invited.
If only he'd known what sort of hell that woman would bring forth... It was worse than when she'd been pregnant all those times, and that had been borderline traumatizing for the man. They’d gone through four party planners, half a dozen assistants, thirty-eight venues, fourteen caterers, and Chance kept finding samples of stupid decorations scattered all over the house. He’d taken to burning them for fun. Bahh had been frantic at her best, irritable most of the time, and so wrapped up in this thing that she’d forgotten to pay him special attention, causing him to become irritable as well. While he had always found her extreme dedication incredibly attractive, she had become a monster woman.
So now here he was, unable to argue his way out of having to greet their guests. Chance wasn't sure why his wife thought it would be a good idea to force him to do the job, considering he was an arrogant git and would most likely offend the majority of them before they'd even had an opportunity to procure an alcoholic beverage from the open bar. He’d tried to convince her to hire someone to do it, but that would have been too impersonal, she’d argued. Whatever. After twelve years of marriage, the man had learned that he had to do stupid things if he wanted to get… happiness.
The appearance of the first arrivals pulled Chance out of his thoughts. He took a swig of his drink, preparing himself for the torture.
And so it begins.
Welcome to the first (and probably only) Carter hosted Alumni+ Extravaganza of Doom. Here you can post your entrance and interact with others who have arrived. In case you care to godmod it, Chance will greet you in one of the following ways:
An indifferent head nod.
A narrowing of his eyes.
Taking a drink as you walk by.
Not even looking at you.
Something you might think is a smile but probably is the result of a rude or hilariously insulting thought in his head.
A vaguely amiable greeting if he knows you.
Who is invited?
All alumni, children of alumni, other adult characters, and VH24 pre-Hogwarts or student characters of half to pureblood status if it is likely that their parents would attend such a thing. No mudbloods. There is a mudblood sniffing hell hound on the premises.
Why are you so blood-racist?
Because you exist.
Can I really not attend your awesome party?
You may attend at your own risk, mudblood. But I make no guarantees for your safety.
What does the place look like? I didn't feel like reading your stupid RP.
We are in the middle of Epping Forest outside of London in mid-summer, in one of those wedding-like tents that is enclosed and cool, lit with those dumb fairy lights and decorated in bluish-green and such (there is a smaller, identical tent for the children). Enchantments have been made to ensure no muggles will stumble in (although that would've been entertaining). There is a fireplace, champagne fountain, an open bar, juice boxes for children I suppose, plenty of food, live entertainment (as in musicians, not... nevermind), a dance floor, tables and chairs scattered around, perhaps a petting zoo. I don't know, if you want it to be there, sure, it'll be there. Oh, and there's SWAG. All the good parties have SWAG.
Do I only post in this thread?
No, you‘re not confined to this thread only. You may create your own party threads in which you interact with people of your choice or just sit there like a creeper or whatever you want to do. You can add the links to those threads here and I’ll add them to a list on this post so people can stalk them as they please without much effort in searching.
Isabella's thread for the kids is here, although they're more than welcome to run around like idiots with the adults, as all brats are wont to do.