champagne supernova. [tag; ashley]

"I love them. They're so amazing. There are so many species! Garden ones, the Giant African one is incredible. Milk, apple, Roman, periwinkle, they're all so cute. Don't you think, Poppy?"

As if jolted, Poesy looked up quickly as she blinked her big blue eyes back into focus. "It's Poesy," she corrected Jamie gently and with a patient smile. She was completely used to being mis-named and she'd been called allsorts over the years; Rosie, Paula, Polly, Paloma, Portia and bizarrely, Carol. "Like the flower. Or the Black Death nursery rhyme." She laughed. He didn't. She drank a large gulp of wine.

Jamie was a good looking gentleman. He had dark hair that was too long and falling into his eyes, the ends curling at the nape of his neck. Tall and slender, he wore cute glasses and his tie wasn't tied quite tightly enough. Poesy thought it was meant to be roguish but he looked like a small boy on his first day of school in a shirt too big for him. But he liked snails - loved them, apparently.

Speed dating was a new thing for her and she didn't really understand it. Dating wasn't anything like this in Paris. In Paris, people just tended to fall into relationships  - but she used the word lightly. If a man was "dating" someone, he was also "dating" other women, too. So far, Jamie hadn't let her talk. He just kept going on about those bloody molluscs and it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she used slug pellets on her herbs to deter them but even she wasn't that cruel.

"I'm not really one for creepy-crawlies," Poesy admitted as Jamie's face fell. Calling his beloved slimy shell things that was apparently the wrong thing to say. "They're molluscs," he corrected her tersely as he downed his drink and slammed it on the table, causing Poesy to blink in mild surprise. "And they don't crawl, they glide."

With that, a bell dinged and relief flooded her as she sighed. Bemused, she watched Jamie up and leave, practically slamming his chair as though he couldn't get away from her quickly enough. That was the longest four minutes of her life and people said microwave minutes lasted an eternity. Picking up her pen, Poesy wasted no time in marking Jamie down with a large "X" in the box. The paper asked her to tick for yes and mark an X for no to another meeting. She was doing this for the snails, really.

It hadn't been a great evening for Poesy so far but she told herself that she was bored of spending another Friday night by herself - and she was. She'd seen tonight's event in the local newspaper and she didn't have anything to lose. At best, she'd make some new friends. And worst, she'd go home and sleep with someone who was really into garden pests.

The host had called for a break and everyone was mingling but Poesy was still sitting. Out of habit, she anxiously twisted her pearl earrings, poking at the lobe as she watched people wander by. Was she overdressed? Maybe the slit was too much. Or maybe her standards were too high. She looked at her stack of cards and she'd only ticked three that night. Her full lips down turned into a frown as she wondered if she was playing the game wrong. Picking up her pen, Poesy hesitated over Jamie's sheet of paper before she pushed it away from her. No. That was definitely the right decision to make. With a sigh, she slumped forward a little, her elbow on the table and her chin resting in an upturned palm. The lighting was flattering but dim. Poesy though if she'd seen anyone here in daylight, she'd be spooked.

It was a little after ten or so in the evening and the sun was just starting to set. It had been a balmy summer so far and she was pleased. It was night like these where the city didn't feel so huge and unfriendly.  It was the final round and Poesy was looking forward to it. An eternal optimist, she was hoping the best had been saved for last. Either that or her knight in shining armour really was just a pillock in tin foil.



@Ashley Morigan

Ashley spent a lot of time in bars, and that meant there always being something going on. Whether it was betting on a sport’s match, doing obscure trivia with random people he’d never met or—apparently, speed dating. Ashley wasn’t necessarily single, but he wasn’t necessarily not single. He and Mihwa had been on dates, but they weren’t committed. Ashley shied from commitment, really. He was just afraid of hurting others with his way of life, and Mihwa was certainly too sweet to deserve him. He was a trash human, and he knew it. This was actually one of the activities he wanted to sit out, but he had come to the bar on the wrong night and it was going on, and there was no where Joshua behind the bar was going to let his regular customer skip out on something as “fun” as speed dating with pretty women. He had taken a double-whiskey down for courage before sitting down in the first chair.

Despite himself, and how shy he could sometimes be, he was doing a great job mingling with these girls. They seemed relatively interested in him, mostly. It was probably the accent, though. He never thought Americans had accents until he came to England and all the girls swooned over his slight southern drawl. He spent four full minutes explaining the house system at Ilvermorny to one girl, spent another four trying to delicately explain that pest extermination meant… well… extermination. He didn’t think that girl was going to write after this anyway. Then, he slid in across from Posey. He was getting the hang of this now, feeling a little more confident. “Hi, uhh…” He looked at her name tag. “Posey. Wow, that’s pretty. I’m Ash.” He offered. “So, tell me a little about yourself? You went to Hogwarts, right?”

He was looking her over. She looked really pretty in that powder blue slitted dress, it seemed to play off her blue eyes. She was definitely the prettiest girl that he’d seen all night, not that the other ones were too bad either. He was stull not drunk enough for this to not feel stressful. How was he supposed to get to know a girl after only 4 minutes with her? He probably just looked like an ass for those minutes and no one would ever want to talk to him again. He had to remember that he wasn’t seriously, realistically looking o get a date out of this. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t like to, though.  Ashley was notoriously interested in ladies. He was always flirting, always talking. He came and went like the wind, but tried to have fun and make friends whenever he rolled through.

He looked her in the eye appropriately and listened carefully, trying to remember what she said about herself so he could use it to formulate his next response.

A new face swam into her line of vision and she blinked. A faint panic washed over her as a man sat down and glanced at her name tag, fully expecting him to call her poo-see like another one had. He spoke quickly and confidently. He said her name was pretty. Poesy could feel the blush spread up her neck and all the way to the tips of her ears. The only thought clanging around her head was oooh, American.

"Hi," she managed to stammer out with another smile, emboldened by how at ease he was. He said his name was Ash - easygoing, kind, uncomplicated. He sounded just perfect.

"I did, yes. Hufflepuff," she explained, realising that she knew bugger all about Ilvermorny and didn't want to waste time trying to figure out his personality by which magical creature decided they wanted him to be on their team. He asked her about herself so casually, it made her flounder. All sorts of useless stuff had appeared in her brain and none of it seemed appropriate. All she could think to say was that she'd made a carrot cake when she was eight and it won a prize in the local village fair. Cringe.

"I'm a Potioneer," Poesy said, wondering if that would intimidate him. "I love Italian food. My favourite colour is blue. I'm allergic to horses. I love wine even though it gives me a headache," she said as she paused to drink more of it. "If I could live anywhere in the world, it'd be Copenhagen. I've never been, it just looks gorgeous," she added with a smile. "I believe aliens exist.

She liked his smile. And that dimple in his chin. Poesy chewed on her lower lip before realising that four minutes was a bloody stupid time constraint and that she didn't know anything about him, other than she liked the way his voice sounded. "Where are you from?" Poesy asked, interested. Her knowledge of America was very very limited. She'd read travel guides and she knew what the map looked like but beyond that, she didn't know too much. Only that they can cheese in a can?

"Do you prefer the city or the country?" She asked Ash with a smile, marvelling at the way he seemed so relaxed. He must have done this before. Poesy couldn't decide. He had an air of "city boy" about him but she had a feeling he'd be pretty at home on a moor or something similar. Out of everyone that night thus far, this was the only person she'd met that she wasn't keeping an eye on the clock, wishing for it to hurry up. If anything, she was wishing for the minute hand to fall of it.

She crossed her legs at the knee and placed her elbows on the table, her chin resting in her upturned palms, her attention solely on him. "If you had three wishes, what would they be?" She asked him, keen for his answer. "Why did you come here tonight?" Poesy asked gently, genuinely wanting to know the answer. To be honest, she was just desperate for him to say something. He could call her "boring" and she'd probably say thank you.

Lots of questions made Posey a little hard to follow, but he didn’t mind the quick pace. He relaxed and tried to go along with it. A Hufflepuff, hm? He didn’t recognize the name. Was that the “everyone but the brave, smart, and evil” house? Maybe. He wouldn’t say it like that to her face.  Then she asked him where he was from. That was a tough one. Ashley traveled all over the US as a child, never in one spot long. He was born, though, and his grandparents lived in Nashville.

“Oh, I’m from Nashville, Tennessee, ma’am.” He offered with a smile. “I traveled a lot when I was younger though. Had the kind of family always moving around. Didn’t stay in one place at all until Ilvermorny, and, even then, my parents were always sending postcards.” He laughed. “I was a Thunderbird, if you’re familiar. I’m afraid I’m not that familiar with Hogwarts Houses, but I’ve been told I would’ve been a Gryffindor, if that means anything to you.”

“I suppose I’m a good ‘ol country boy at heart, but I don’t mind the city either.” He shrugged. He was used to more rural areas that London, certainly. “I like that there’s always something to do here. What about you? City or country?”

Then she asked him three wishes, and he had to think. “Hmm, That’s rough. Money, probably, a Partner, and… all the work I could ever want. You know, adventures and stuff. Not having to spend my day following someone else, just all the money I need to live, all the adventure I want, and someone to share it with.” He smiled broadly. “Now it’s your turn.”

He hesitated a little at her last question, not sure if he ought to tell the truth or not. He certainly didn’t need help getting a date, though she had been lovely to talk to.  “I mean, the bartender sees me here a lot. Wanted to find me a girl, since I always come in alone.” He admitted, telling the truth. “You looking for someone, or did you get dragged along?” He wondered. “If you are, I’d be happy to buy you another drink when this is all over. Just come find me.”

Ma'am he'd said and accidentally, her fingers tightened around her glass as he toes curled in her shoes. Was it hot in here? She cleared her throat and smiled, nodding as she had heard of Nashville. Did she know much about it? No. "Hot chicken," she announced and instantly regretted it as a blush spread from her chest to the tips of her ears. Fucking loser, she scolded herself.

"That must have been rough," Poesy stated, sympathetically. Even though she'd outgrown her little village, at least it was still somewhere she'd called "home". Sending postcards was a lovely, old fashioned thing to do and she liked that. Even though his parents were away, they still thought of their son. She shook her head because she didn't know what a Thunderbird was (it sounded cool) but nodded when he mentioned Gryffindor. "That explains a lot," she said vaguely but kindly. He seemed the type - brave, confident, outgoing. It was just a shame he'd got stuck with her.

Ashley continued to speak and Poesy relaxed, calmed by the soft lilt of his voice. She placed her elbows on the table, her chin resting on her upturned palms, not realising she was coming across all dreamy-eyed. "Country," she answered, almost instantly. She liked the quiet. She hated the sound of trundling traffic and car horns and slamming doors. To some people, it was like white noise but not to her. "I haven't heard birdsong in ages since moving here."

Money. Partner. Work. That seemed very reasonable and attainable. "What do you do?" Poesy asked, wondering if he must be in some sort of freelance based job. She smiled at him quickly. His life plan sounded pretty much ideal but she didn't think he needed to wish for those things because they should come naturally to him, surely.

He batted the question back to her and she inhaled sharply. She didn't want to be lame and say the same thing he had but it sounded good to her. "More free time, not to feel pain, more confidence?" Poesy asked, still unsure of if those wishes were her true ones. The pain one, was. She was bored of being upset. Sometimes, emotional pain became physical and it was annoying.

Poesy laughed gently, seeking out the bartender. "That's sweet," she offered gamely but alarm bells began to ring. He said he had been set up but she wondered how high his turnover rate of women was. "Looking," she answered Ashley quickly in an uncharacteristic spurt of honesty. Poesy thought she was ready to meet someone, it had been six months since Paris.

The bell rung to signal the end of the event and her heart lurched as panic set in. "Where?" She asked him dumbly, blinking three times in rapid succession. He got up and turned his back and Poesy was on her feet almost instantly. This wasn't really something she tended to do, meet an attractive man in a bar and then let them buy her a drink. She should be doing it. Ashley disappeared into the crowd and she followed, grabbing her bag and jacket as she jostled her way through the people mingling.

"Wait," she panted as she managed to catch up with him, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder as she offered him a grin. "I'd love a drink," she said quickly, looking over her shoulder. "But somewhere else?" She asked, the smell of desperation from the other patrons getting a bit too much. "There's a place close that makes really great margaritas," she asked hopefully.

She needed to do it. He seemed really nice and she had no plans for that evening. And he was really cute. She didn't really have anything to lose. Maybe they could talk on the way. Maybe she could get his contact details. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be a complete and utter disaster.

Ashley had really liked Posey. She seemed nice, she was pretty, she had something special about her. He hadn’t expected to really meet anyone he liked during a pub speed date, but he wouldn’t mind spending more time with her. When she found him after it was over, he grinned. “Sure, lead the way?” He suggested. “Is it far? I’ve got a motorbike outside and we can ride over if it’s a few blocks or so. I don’t really wanna leave ‘er here if I’m not gonna be nearby.” He managed.

He walked out of the shop with her and around back towards his bike. “You wanna see her, don’tcha. My girlfriend.” He teased lightly, showing off his old red Honda motorcycle. “Her name’s Lola.” He offered with a little grin. “Wanna know a secret?” He asked, but didn’t wait to tell her. “She flies.”

“Maybe after we get a few better drinks in you I’ll take you for a fly home.” He offered. “Assuming you don’t get too air sick.” He said with a tiny laugh.

“So which way is the margarita bar?” He asked, following her lead. He mounted the bike and offered her the helmet. “Hop on?”