Year/Job
The Quibbler
Featured Columnist
Two words about furniture: KILLING MACHINES |
Travis
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Post by Theodore Platt on Jul 15, 2015 21:30:39 GMT -8
Love was the only thing that could bring Theodore Platt out to the Heritage Festival. Now that his relationship with Anya was a matter of public record, he was facing a new challenge that he hadn’t seen before: celebrity. In the old days he could go wherever he wanted with Anya, posing as her bodyguard, and keep some relative anonymity. There was talk about her mysterious suitor in the magical gossip circles, but with no real information released to the public, Theodore could keep his personal life personal. Now they were a celebrity duo, and Theodore felt exposed every time he left the house. It was bad enough having to attend all of Michael Quinn’s parties, but the Heritage Festival was an entirely new level of danger. With practically the whole of the civilized magical world coming and going, Theo couldn’t lock down the killers from the civilians, the terrorists from the bystanders.
“Hey man, keep your hands to yourself!” the young man fidgeted as Theodore frisked him. The line at the autograph stand was backed up clear to Hogsmeade as Theodore refused to let anyone near his wife before he could check them for weapons.
“I’m thorough,” he grunted, removing the kid’s wand from his jacket. “You’ll get this back when you get your picture signed.” He looked down at the photo in the kid’s hand and frowned. Another one from Anya’s bikini suit, no one had any chocolate frog cards or official Puddlemere portraits. He didn’t blame them, of course, Anya had a great bikini body, but it was a little unnerving being married to a sex symbol. Any one of these punks could be the next John Hinckley, Jr. “One more thing,” he said, examining the kid’s eyes. “Wizard Pox can be detected through the irises, if you so much as cough on my special lady, I will take you down. Go on then,” he faked a smile, it was disturbing.
As Theodore glanced over to his wife in the booth, his smile widened, genuinely. She was the only person who could get him out here. Or her father, by way of Anya. He really didn’t understand why that man liked him so much. It was tiring. On the bright side, the media still hadn’t found out about their summer in Belize. As far as anyone at the Prophet knew, Anya and Theodore were only engaged. If Theo had things his way, they wouldn’t even have wedding. Anything would be purely ceremonial at this point, and it was only giving the media a free story to cover, but it was what Anya wanted. He understood that.
Right now, it didn’t look like Anya wanted to be cooped up in that booth. She had some fellow Puddlemere players with her, but it wasn’t like Anya to stay in one place for too long. Theodore held up his hand to the next in line and turned around, jogging toward his wife. “None of your teammates seem to be as popular…” Theo was right; most of the traffic was filtering toward Anya. “You don’t look your having a great time. Don’t you love these kinds of things? Public…gatherings and whatnot?”
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Year/Job
Puddlemere United Seeker
How long will I love you? As long as stars are above you. And longer, if I may. |
Steph
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Post by Anya Platt on Jul 17, 2015 21:43:25 GMT -8
settle down with me and i'll be your safety [attr="class","em"] The Heritage Festival was always a blast. Anya had done these meet and greets since her first year with Puddlemere. Sure, she could barely remember them now, because booze always seemed to be involved back then, but the familiar feelings they brought her were warm. Ever since she'd returned to work, it seemed like people were extra careful around her, always cautious not to mention the 'm' word or ask too many questions about her ordeal.
She'd been in desperate need of anything that felt familiar and normal to her. The moment her coach asked her to attend the festival with her teammates, she'd signed up.
The smile she had arrived with this morning slowly faded through the day, She loved her fans, but her hand was cramping up from all the photographs she'd been asked to sign. Anya did not do well when it came to repeating motions. She was in constant need of stimulation, her mind couldn't help but wander off if her body was still for too long. The line just seemed to double by the minute, she knew she'd be here for a few more hours if they kept coming. And honestly, the line wouldn't be so long if Theodore did not insist on thoroughly checking every single person.
"Miss Quinn," the young man Theodore had been checking moments prior was now in front of her, a big, goofy grin on his face. "I'm a big fan, I have been waiting to meet you for so long. I was disappointed when the Ministry... well, you know... but anyway, can I have your autograph?"
Anya looked down at her own picture, it was so weird to see herself in motion sometimes especially half-naked, but she picked up her quill and signed it. The young man glanced back at Theodore to make sure he wasn't watching before he grabbed Anya's hand to shake it. "Thank you for coming back to us, you don't know how much it means."
"Thank you, that's so sweet! It's great to be back."
It really was. This was her first year back at the festival and she wanted to enjoy it as much as she could. Of course, she'd enjoy it even more if she was able to explore it. It was beginning to look like that was going to be impossible today.
A collective groan emerged from the crowd as her husband stopped the line and made his way to her. She immediately perked up and leaned over the table to talk to him. Her teammates paid no attention to this, they were most likely used to having him around now.
"I am having a great time," she replied but even she wasn't convinced. "I'm just a little tired, you know? I wanted to go walk around for a bit, but it doesn't look like it will die down any time soon."
She let out a sigh, but it was immediately followed by a small smile. She reached out and pulled him closer to her by his shirt, although the table left some space between them.
"Should I make a run for it, for old times sake?" While everyone around her tried to pretend she wasn't a fugitive for a while, Anya liked to make a joke out of it. She didn't feel the need to be ashamed of what happened, she was innocent after all.
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Year/Job
The Quibbler
Featured Columnist
Two words about furniture: KILLING MACHINES |
Travis
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Post by Theodore Platt on Jul 23, 2015 19:40:23 GMT -8
Being married was a daily struggle for Theo. Not in the conventional sense like you might see on television, where the husband struggles to remain faithful in a world full of temptation or whatnot, no, Theodore was only interested in Anya. But he had made a promise to Brielle, and he had reinforced that promise by marrying Anya. Marriage would be a lot easier if Anya were the build-a-bunker type who would be happy living her life underground in a fallout shelter, but she was quite the opposite. If there was one relief for Theodore, it was that Anya never felt comfortable staying in one place for too long. This was good because a moving target is more difficult to hit than a stationary one. Glancing over at his wife, he could see how tired she was getting, sitting there moving nothing but her wrist as she signed her photos. Maybe this would have been a great day for a narcissist, but for a woman who bared all for Wizard Sports’ yearly swimsuit issue, Anya was too laid back for this.
“I am having a great time,” Anya said, but Theodore could tell that not even Anya quite believed what she was saying. “I'm just a little tired, you know? I wanted to go walk around for a bit, but it doesn't look like it will die down any time soon.” She was right, the line had quadrupled since the day had started, and it didn’t look like anyone was in a hurry to abandon it. Why did people care so much about a celebrity writing all over their stuff? People are weird.
There was a time when Theodore would have taken a swing at anyone, man or woman, who had grabbed his shirt, but Anya was proof that the Scottish brute was growing. When she pulled him closer, his heart only kind of jumped. “Should I make a run for it, for old times sake?” Theodore was one of those people who didn’t feel comfortable referencing Anya’s whole murder deal. Not because it reflected poorly on her, but because the magic media’s infinite interest in the subject. On slow news weeks, the tabloids would publish new “bombshells,” like how Muggle tabloids are still talking about Monica Lewinsky for some reason.
“Keep looking at me,” Theodore whispered. “I’ll get you out of here, just try not to look suspicious.” Theodore had proven in his time with Anya to be a master escape artist. He had once extracted her from a crowded shopping mall and placed her under the protection of a high-end hotel for several months while he tried to prove her innocence. The Heritage Festival, however, wasn’t just another shopping mall. This would be his greatest test, and it would require everything in his arsenal.
“Alright, let’s go!” he cried, reaching across the table and lifting Anya onto his shoulder. Chatter from the crowd behind him was rising to increasingly angered levels as Theodore took off with the woman they were all waiting to see. Her teammates shared confused looks, though they had all grown to accept Theodore as Anya’s crazy, unpredictable husband. They were a very dangerous pair.
When Theodore reached the covered bridge, he sat Anya down and took a moment to catch his breath. There was a time when he could carry ten girls ten miles, but married life was taking its toll on his body. “I think we lost them,” he breathed, looking back to be sure that no one was following them. “Wow,” he continued, looking around his surroundings. “You know, this is where I had my first kiss.” The covered bridge was a popular location for first kisses, second only to the owlery, for some reason. “It feels...surreal being back here…with you…” Theodore had never been too sentimental about his days at Hogwarts, which he spent the majority of trying to survive, but he did sometimes wonder what life would have been like if he’d shared those days with Anya.
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