[Rhayader, Wales] Celebration of the Century (Open!)

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Down highway A470 (or South Street as it's called locally) almost exactly one kilometre from the town centre of Rhayader, just past Brynafon Country House and the Red Kite Centre, sits a roughly hexagon-shaped, four and a half acre field. It is bounded by an evergreen hedge on the northwest face, a wire fence and a gate for the farmer/owner to access it on the east side, thick deciduous tree lines on the northeast and southeast, and another tree line on the banks of the River Wye to the southwest. The river feeds the low-lying field and makes the grass grow dark green and lush, and the farmer uses it for most of the year as a sheep-grazing pasture. On this day, however, the sheep are not interested in the pasture at all; in fact it's like they don't even acknowledge its existence. While that might ordinarily concern the property-owner, he hasn't been paying any attention to the field either. Every time he gets too close to it, he remembers some urgent yard work that is yet to be done on the rest of the farmland. Nor do any other Muggles driving by up A470 pay any attention to the green expanse on the side of the road; their eyes slide right past it, not a concern or even worth noticing.

On the other hand, those with magical eyes can see that quite a spectacle has been set up in this field, which has been referred to as Maes Plaid (Welsh for "the party field") by the local wizarding family since they had started planning today's event. An enormous white and silver round canopy tent has been set up squarely (or roundly) in the middle of Maes Plaid, taking up four thousand square metres or almost an acre of the land, its ceiling high and filled with animated white, silver, and lavender balloons. Floating around between the ceiling and the grassy ground are an equally large number of paper lanterns, synchronised to glow alternately purple, sea green, and coral.

Within this large canopy, a wooden dance floor has been spread, bounded on two corners by enchanted sandstone sculptures of stick-figure couples, already dancing to the music being played on a stage to the south by a tribute band, alternately crooning out old tunes from the 1920s and newer hits from the late 1990s. A mini-bar complete with a pair of bartenders (none of the guest-of-honor's family, this time) sits off to another side of the dance floor to encourage freed inhibitions and a great time.

Around the dance floor, bar, and stage, small tables that seat three or four wizards and witches a-piece are scattered close enough to allow conversation but far enough apart that people can move freely around the space. Towards the north edge of the canopy, a smaller tent houses a trio of tables for snacks and desserts, the centre of which houses a large five-tiered cake, twenty candles on the top, and twenty candles around the circumference of every descending layer. A gifts table has been placed on the east side of the canopy and it is already overflowing, some presents wrapped in gaudy silver paper and some simply in newspaper and tape. Off to the west side of the canopy, a path of stepping stones has been conjured that leads from the riverbank where the guests have been encouraged to Apparate in, under cover of a number of large Concealment Charms. Because this is the party of the century -- the party for a century -- and everyone is welcome.

[img style="width:400px;"]http://i1106.photobucket.com/albums/h374/taedprice/Magical%20Hogwarts/Conway%20Clan/ConwayDivider_zpsuyikzvvg.png[/img]

Trahaern Conway raised his glass and tapped it on with the side of his wand. "May I have everyone's attention, please?" As the murmur of voices died down and the band ended their set, all eyes turned toward the tall grey-haired man who many knew locally as the desk clerk, barkeeper, and de facto innkeeper of the Ysgubell & Ystafell. "Our family is absolutely thrilled that all of you have made it. As you know, we are here to celebrate that this amazing woman right here, my aunt, your great-aunt, family, neighbour, friend, just turned one hundred years old on Wednesday." Thunderous applause, as Ceinwen beamed, blushing slightly, her hands folded in front of her black gown and black-and-silver sequined jacket.

Guests from literally all over the wizarding world were here. It was no formal function, nothing Ministry sanctioned or encouraged, but Ceinwen Crearwy Conway was very well-known in certain circles. She had traveled through most of wizarding Europe and made friends of entire family lines; studied old, new, and even Muggle concepts of magical education; worked for and later spearheaded the movement of sympathetic wizardkind to heal Muggle soldiers from the World Wars, and defended her actions to the Wizengamot, to which she had later received and turned down an invitation to join - twice; fought to defend her clan and hometown during the Wizarding Wars and bravely shouldered the untimely loss of her husband and cousin to Death Eater attacks; and, made a mean white chocolate peanut butter caramel fudge.

Trahaern went on, "In a few hours as we get closer to dusk we'll have Aunt Ceinwen blow out the candles on her birthday cake, and, uh, it might take her a while." Polite chuckles from the gathering, which grew louder when Ceinwen teasingly slapped her nephew in the shoulder. "For now, however, we want to invite you all to relax and just enjoy the party. You'll all have a chance to talk to Aunt Ceinwen and congratulate her personally, but in just a moment we'll be starting off on the dance floor, where she has graciously allowed me to accompany her in a dance her and my late Uncle Niall's wedding song." A lot of cutesy sounds and "aww"s. Trahaern was about to lead his aunt out when she took a step forward on her own. Immediately, all eyes were on her.

"Let's not forget, however," she said in a carrying voice, "that the young ones that I hoped to see here, all current students at Hogwarts, are still sealed inside that dome thingummywut. Which is why, once this party is over and I've had a good night's sleep, I will be moving to Hogsmeade immediately to try and help sort out the problem." The stunning announcement would have met with awkward silence had not at least some of the people in the tent, particularly the other members of the Conway clan, been familiar with her headstrong (bullheaded) attitude and spontaneous decision-making. They start clapping immediately, and eventually others joined in.

Trahaern cleared his throat as the applause died away and turned the party back to happier tidings. "Well, with all that said, we are pleased to have you here, once again. Please do not hesitate to socialise, snack, have a few drinks, dance... just enjoy yourselves! Thank you again, and happy one hundredth birthday Aunt Ceinwen!" The gathering roared with applause once more as Trahaern leaned down and gave his diminutive aunt a kiss on the cheek, and then they walked out onto the dance floor as one of the female vocalists stepped up to the microphone and the tribute band began playing and singing "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square."

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Party On, Everyone!  [/div]


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Ceinwen's Future:
In all of Ceinwen's posts made in topics started today or later, I will be including a double dice roll. If the numbers ever match up, Ceinwen's time is up and she will only live for up to a few more posts. The higher the matching number, the quicker she will pass away.

Rolled 2d50 : 36, 12, total 48
Rolled 1d100 : 86, total 86

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In the middle of a pasture, magicked for muggle eyes to ignore, was a party. It was a party so grand that so many witches and wizards of all statuses came and went. The party was just beginning on that cooler afternoon, especially as Max made his way through the crowd and towards the bar. He had apparated into the grassy expanse of trees at the start of the pathway, alongside about fifty other witches and wizards of all ages, sizes and shapes, and took his time to stroll the way to the large tent pitched up in the midst of the pasture. He took his time because not only was he not quite ready to slip into the party mindset, but also because he had wanted a cigarette. He worked a little earlier in Hogsmeade earlier, from about seven to noon, only because he took a half day the day before. Plus, with the dome down everyone was pressed with the pressure to get most of the aurors and healers still stuck in the dome out. It was a little too tedious for the twenty-five year old, and the only way he found himself quick to unwind when there wasn't alcohol was with a quick smoke.

He stayed out of the pathway, though, not wanting others to get the back draft of the tobacco. Unlike muggles who smoked it in the way of everyone else, and didn't care who breathed in the toxicity, Max was at least polite about it. Not only did the tobacco calm him, but it gave him time to internally contemplate the most current of hook-ups he's had. It was more of an internal debate, a silent issue that clawed at his brain and refused to let go. He finished his smoke as he reached the entrance of the party. Inside, the hubbub was loud and obnoxious, but it soothed the soul of the auror. He didn't mind parties, and in fact, the Conway family was basically family. In a weird way. His maternal aunt, Phyllis, had married a Conway. Therefore, the Conways were like family. In a weird, convoluted way. Max had taken his time to walk around the perimeter as he listened to Trahaern speak about the party, and he bee-lined himself to the bar. And this is where it got interesting.

He ordered a vodka and tucked it between his fingers as he watched the going ons of the party. He was silent as he listened to the announcements -- about how people would be able to talk to the birthday girl in due order; how Ceinwen had announced that she would be moving to Hogsmeade to help sort out the dome; to the way the music started to play -- while he casually eyed the party. He was looking for a familiar face to speak to, or someone new to meet (Max was far from the shy type, although he wasn't much of a conversation starter unless there was literally nothing else going on), or even to see his aunt and uncle. Eventually, he'd find his way to Ceinwen to congratulate her on her one hundred years of life, but at the same time, he knew she was busy on the dance floor, and probably everyone else would want to talk to her, too, so he'd wait until it calmed down.

NPC: Phyllis Conway
The model pictured above it Halle Berry, she isn't currently claimed on the model
list but I haven't done a board search for any WIP's who are using her. I will not however
be turning Phyllis into a played character, I am only playing her for this thread, so don't worry
about me stealing your model if you are planning to use her at one point (; Please PM me
if you have and problems with me using her here.

With a loud CRACK Phyllis Conway appeared at the designated spot to apparate to, the invitation to her relatives birthday party clutched tightly in her hand. She was only distantly related to Ceinwen Conway - she was her husbands grandfathers sister - but she'd promised her husband Evan that she would be here. Immediately after arriving she checked to make sure that she hadn't landed on anyone before tucking the invitation into her red clutch bag and beginning to walk to the filed where she could see the tent, keeping her eyes on the look out for her husband. She'd had the day off, but he'd had to come straight from work (having finished at 4), so they'd arranged to meet up at the party. She couldn't see him anywhere yet, but he could have left late, or be inside the tent, or hidden amongst a group of people. The latter was more than likely, for the sheer amount of people at the party was overwhelming to the 45 year old. How could one person know so many people? Tucking a lock of her short blond-black hair behind her ear she arrived at the tent, hovering in the entranceway for a moment before spotting a spare couple of seats and making her way over to them, greeting a few people as she went. She barely knew any of the people here, but that was to be expected: she'd not even met the whole of her husbands family, never mind the whole of her husbands great-grandmothers family and friends. Finally she reached the table and sat down, craning her neck to see if she could find Evan. Not able to see him anywhere she made polite conversation until the speech began. When Trahaern - Evan had told her the mans name the other day - announced that Ceinwen had just turned 100 the London-born woman joined in the thunderous applause, and then settled down to listen. She chuckled lightly at the comment about the candles, and aww-ed when the dance was announced. The woman may not have been a Ravenclaw like her brother, but she was clever enough to work out that Trahaern’s ‘Uncle Niall’ must’ve been his 'Aunt Ceinwen’s' husband - now deceased. Her eyes swivelled to the old woman when she stepped forward and announced that she would be moving to Hogsmead to help investigate the dome that enclosed Hogwarts. Phyllis clapped loudly at that, for they needed all hands on deck to get it down. Her own brother, Emmett (who was meant to have been at this party with her) was stuck inside the dome, and unlike so many others who had given up and decided to believe that everyone inside was dead, she still had hope that he was living. After the unfortunate death of her father at the Battle of Hogwarts, the 45 year old had felt a pang of sadness inside her, and she somehow knew that he was gone, and she was certain that if Emmett died then she would know. She had vaguely considered moving herself about half way through September when the dome was first announced, but she couldn't just give up her job and leave to help investigate. Anyway, she doubted she would be allowed to help all that much even if she did go - and they already had a skilled team working on how to get in. There was no point in packing it all in and moving to Scotland.

Once the announcements were over and the music started up, Phyllis excused herself from the table she was sitting on and stood up, looking out for Evan. She still couldn’t see her husband, but she was sure that he would be here by now. He wouldn’t have missed the beginning. However, in her search for the elder man she did catch sight of her nephew: Maximillon Crowhurst. The boy, an auror now, was the youngest son of her elder sister Wanda, who had married Damian Crowhurst from the infamous auror family. Making a beeline for the boy - the one familiar face in the sea of unfamiliar people - the witch noticed that the 25 year old had a glass of alcohol in his hand and gave a wry smile. She had stopped drinking years ago - she’d never really liked the taste of alcohol, so as soon as it was acceptable she’d begun to use her age as an excuse not to drink. That didn’t mean others couldn’t let loose and have a bit of fun, though. Weaving through the crowds, Phyllis caught sight of Ceinwen dancing with Trahaern on the dancefloor. She meant to congratulate the woman on reaching 100 years at some point, but the elderly woman was obviously having a nice dance right now, so she would see her at some point later and give her congratulations. Finally reaching her nephew, the London-born woman smiled warmly and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Hello, Max. How are you?” She asked, using the nickname she always used. Phyllis wasn’t a big fan of long names, and shortened them all the time, even if they weren’t that long. Examples of that were calling Emmett 'Metty', and in her younger years her calling Wanda ‘Wawa’. The nickname had first started when she couldn’t physically say Wanda, but then when she was around 7 or so she would say it in front of her sisters friends to annoy/embarrass Wanda. She had vivid memories of completely and utterly embarrassing the other witch in front of the boy she'd had a crush on. She'd  paid for it dearly afterwards, but it was fun, and Wanda had eventually gone on to marry the boy, so it wasn't like she'd ruined any potential relationship. Ah, fun times. As she waited for a reply from her sprightly nephew, the 45 year old gazed around the tent she was in. She assumed that it was hidden from muggles, otherwise they'd have some trouble explaining all the magical folk to the authorities. She scrutinized faces, wondering who they were and what they did and even how they new the matriarch of the Conway clan, and wondered if the other guests were doing the same to her. At 45, Phyllis had aged quite well, and unlike her brothers her hair was still the jet black it had always been. She had a slight tan, as she always did, from going out and about and spending a lot of time in the sun. That and the fact she'd only recently been away to Egypt with Evan - during the summer months they'd visited the country. While her hair was different to Emmett's, her eyes were the same. Fairly hooded, they were a deep chocolate brown and crinkled at the edges when she smiled. As she always did when she was surrounded by lots of new faces, the witch wondered how she came across to other people. Did they think she was kind? Caring? Sarcastic? Mean? Boring? Interesting? Lazy? What job did they think she had? Where did they think she lived? Who did they think she was friends with? As Max answered her, the woman turned back to him.

Ceinwen was grinning like a Cheshire Cat as she danced with her nephew, and she laughed when he managed to lift her up and spin her around once in the middle of the song - not that she was a very large or heavy person, but like herself Trahaern was getting up there in years. When the song finally ended, there was wild applause for both Ceinwen and Trahaern, and the band. "My goodness, thank you so much!" she said to the singer on the stage, "That was wonderful!" The girl blushed and bowed and wished Ceinwen a Happy Birthday, and then the male singer of the tribute band stepped back up to the microphone and invited people to dance, drink, and eat as they so desired, before launching into an old jazz standard. Ceinwen kissed Trahaern on the cheek and said, "Thank you, dear. I'm going to go mingle now."

As she made her way randomly around the enclosure, thanking people in passing for the birthday wishes and getting lots of hugs and handshakes, she spotted her grand-nephew's wife Phyllis talking to young Max Crowhurst, Phyllis' nephew and an Auror for the Ministry. While she didn't see Evan (the aforementioned grand-nephew) yet, she had no problem talking to anyone independently of whether they were related to her or not. Excusing herself through the few remaining people in the way, Ceinwen made a beeline for Phyllis and Max.

"Phyllis, dear!" she said, going right up to her and grasping both her hands with her own. "I'm so glad you made it! This was such a wonderful surprise, I had no idea you all were going to throw this party!" She teared up a little bit and let go of one of Phyllis' hands to wipe her eyes. "It's very good to see you - and you too Max!" she turned and offered a hand to shake. "I assume you're probably too professional and too grown-up for a hug from a woman you're only distantly related to, but if you feel so inclined to give me a birthday hug, I'd be okay with that," she winked at the Auror. "I'm very glad you made it too. I know you and I haven't actually talked recently - I actually think I haven't seen you since you were a baby - but your parents speak so highly of you and your brothers. And, if you didn't know, you are I are exactly alike!" she finished triumphantly. There was an awkward moment of silence, then she added, "Oh, right. Because we were both Ravenclaw-Slytherin Hatstalls that ended up in Ravenclaw. Should have mentioned that before."

She continued talking to both of them but turned back to Phyllis, "Have you two had any cake yet? Or any of the brisket? I don't know who Trahaern hired to cater but it's fantastic. Actually it was probably Catrin who did a lot of the cooking. That's Evan's aunt, another of my nieces," she said in an aside to Phyllis, who probably knew this already. "We should all go!" She turned abruptly to Max again. "Would you do the honour of escorting me and your aunt, Mr. Crowhurst?" she dimpled at him.

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Rolled 2d50 : 23, 19, total 42
Rolled 1d100 : 21, total 21

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out of character note: This post is purely an NPC post as told by Alexander White, Reece's father, and his mother, Denise White. Seeing as neither are ever going to be played besides as NPCs (for the reasoning of muggles not being commonplace in the wizarding world), I decided to not give them face claims that could potentially be overlapping actual characters or WIPs.

Alexander White shifted his weight on his feet, his salt-and-peppering hair combed neatly to the side. The car was parked maybe five-hundred meters away, tucked away in a small alcove of bushes and away from any eyes of fellow countrymen who would be driving by. His wife, Denise, stood by his side, dressed in a long, ankle-length black-sparkling dress that seemed to bring out the beauty of her face. He admired her and what she has done for him. "Are you ready?" she questioned. Alexander's eyes studied her face before he gave a of his head, and the crossed the street towards the supposed party was being held.

When they first got the knock at the door all those summers ago about Reece having magic in his body, the shock was a little outlandish. Alexander had heard stories from his father of magic, but never believed it; he assumed that his grandfather, who had passed away shortly after his own birth, was senile in his old age. But as September first came around, they -- he, Denise and Reece -- all learned the beauty of the magical world that their then eleven year old son would be surrounded in. Wands were real; magic was real; people used owls to deliver and receive mail... everything seemed to be turned around. And despite this, despite everything they went through, as Reece came home during the winter breaks, he seemed more like a child who grew up living in a lie. Alexander was glad of that. He had found friends and a place he loved more than home and the dojo, and even people he could relate to. That was what either of the White parents wanted.

So when they got invited to parties -- not just normal 'muggle' parties, but magical parties -- they were always a little hesitant about going. They read the magical newspaper enough to understand that Reece wouldn't get the invitation -- addressed, formally, Mr. Alexander White and Family, but assumed this was more geared towards their son, and not to the muggle parents. Alexander wasn't even quite sure how to get -- or inform -- the families of those whom he would interact with about the fact that they had no magic, and that they were invited purely for the fact that their sixteen year old child had it. It was weird. It was strange feeling like outcasts of society, but at the same time, being included in the world in which they didn't live was strange. Alexander knew he could never wrap his mind around this, and stopped trying many years ago.

As they crossed the road and started towards the path that the supposed party was being held in, it took them a moment to realize where they were going, or why. Magic must have been keeping out most muggles, but since they had an invitation, perhaps they would be able to see it. Not really. As they approached what should be the opening to the field of the tent (or whatever they had originally assumed it would be) never seemed to appear. They stood there, about five steps in passed the trees that kept it hidden and... stayed there. It was maybe after ten minutes a wizarding couple realized they were there as they sauntered passed, and led Mr. and Mrs. White through the muggle protection barriers and the two were suddenly surrounded by the wizarding world.

They had arrived relatively late, being for the fact that despite being there on time, it still took nearly five hours by automobile to get here, and then another ten or so to actually locate the correct field. Not counting, for instance, the extra ten minutes it took to finally find their way in to the party. Alexander held a box, wrapped in a light pink and purple wrapping with a light blue bow wrapped all around it. Inside contained a science book that Alexander had received from a fellow adjunct university professor a few years back, while teaching in America. It was nothing special; slightly used, but very well taken care of. It was just... Alexander nor Denise really knew what to get for someone's wizarding birthday. It was rather strange.

Silently, though, the Whites took a seat towards the exit, not really sure if they should be up and mingling, or stationary and quiet and make a leave early. Alexander was the type to come in and say he came, verses not being there and missing out. At least now he can inform Reece that they had at least made an appearance.

Maximillion was a little thankful that his Aunt Phyllis was the first to find him, verses the fact that he had to squint and strain to find anyone else he knew at this party. A smile tugged at his lips as she slipped up towards him and gave him a warm greeting, "Hi, Auntie Phyllis," he retorted, swaying slightly on his feet. The alcohol in the glass swished needily and he was tempted to down it all in one go. But instead, he conformed himself to simply savoring the taste of it before he left. He hummed quietly as he glanced around the party, not wanting to keep his aunt from feeling like she needed to be here with him, "I hope your day has been good. I'm sorry your brother is locked up in Hogwarts, but Gemma is, too. I'm worried about them," he stated casually. He glanced at her after surveying the party and gave a mental dismissal to the majority of the group. He didn't mind gatherings, but Max was definitely one of those people who preferred to be in quieter quarters or even in lesser... densities. But he wouldn't complain. He was making an appearance mostly through his familial ties, and nothing more.

Before he could ask another question to his aunt, though, he and Phyllis were being joined by the birthday girl herself. Ceinwen was an odd old lady who tended to ramble and ramble and ramble, and on some levels, that reminded Max of his grandmother. Grandma Crowhurst was always rambling, especially in the kitchen or at work or when Max was around. He was, before Gemma was in the picture, their favorite grandchild, so he was pretty used to the rambling. Ceinwen first spoke to Phyllis and Max sipped at his drink as he waited patiently, but alas the conversation soon turned towards him. The birthday woman rambled on about first how she didn't know if Max wanted a hug or not, and then went on about how she hadn't seen him since he was a baby and how high his parents speak about him. He swayed a little as she pointed out that he, as with her, were both hat-stalls, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Miss Conway," he drawled, purposely using the wrong title for her, "I do wish you'd let me speak before you ramble. A hug is fine; I know we're not related by blood, but if you've known me all my life, how can we not be related?" and with that, he enveloped Ceinwen in a tight one-armed hug, mostly because he didn't want to spill his drink, "and that is a very interesting little tidbit about being hatstalls. They're pretty commonplace, though, right? For a member of a distinguished line to not know which house they should be put in. I'm glad I ended up where I did. I don't think I'm quite as ambitious as the hat thought I was."

Which wasn't true, because Max's sense of ambition would get him places, and it proved with how hard he worked.

Ceinwen went on to talking to Phyllis again, and Max downed the rest of his alcohol before placing the cup down on an empty table. He figured there'd be house elves or waiters going around to clean up tables, so leaving a cup out wouldn't have been a problem. He barely caught the end of their conversation before Ceinwen was asking if he'd escort the two ladies somewhere, and Max gave a sharp bow, allowing his more gentlemanly side to show, "Of course, Miss Conway. Where would you like me to bring you?"

And with that both arms were available for Phyllis and Ceinwen to hold onto his arms.

Phyllis had been hoping that nobody would bring up the subject of the dome around Hogwarts after Ceinwen's announcement, but alas, it was not to be. Her nephew almost immediately brought up the topic, saying how sorry he was that his uncle, her brother, was stuck in there, but that Gemma was stuck there too and he was worried about them both. Although neither she nor her brother were a member of the Crowhurst family, they both knew them quite well, through Wanda and Max, and so she was worried about Gemma too. Although he had never said so, it was always obvious that Max and Gemma were Emmett's favourite nephew and (not-quite) niece, as they shared his passion for transfiguration, and the three of them could have sat for days discussing the subject if not for their parents having to take them home. Phyllis herself had never quite shared the same interest for the topic as her brother, she didn't mind it all that much, but the conversations they had had - even with the two children only being small - had bored her and often confused her.

Just as the 45 year old was about to answer her nephew, Ceinwen Conway herself ambled up to the pair and greeted them. Her hands held tight by the former Ravenclaw and a smile on her face, Phyllis was about to congratulate the woman on reaching the ripe old age of 100, but she continued to talk without taking a breath and turned to Max, rambling on about hugs and aurors and Evan's aunt and the Crowhurst family. The former Hufflepuff gave a small smile as she spoke, Max finishing his drink and offering his arm to Ceinwen to take her to wherever she wanted to go. The younger woman of the trio missed her nephews outstretched arm for her, not purposely, she just didn't see it, and so she walked round to the other side of him and strolled next to the Conway matriarch as they wandered across the tent.

"I meant to congratulate you, Ceinwen," Phyllis said. She looked at the woman as she spoke but every so often her eyes would flit upwards, searching for a sign of Evan. "And also wish you a Happy Birthday. In fact, I have a present for you here, it's nothing much, but I just thought..." She trailed off as she reached into her magically-expanded-on the-inside clutch bag to retrieve said present, rummaging around and pushing jumpers, keys and work-related papers aside as she did so. The advantage of having a magically expanded bag was that you could fit more in, but the disadvantage was that she then did fit more in, and could never find anything amongst all the rubbish.