Annelie Ryssevik was having the time of her life. Though it was true that her life as of late, hadn't been particularly spectacular she couldn't believe the change in her luck. Not only was she not in London (the city she'd been spending the last couple of weeks being miserable in), she was also not at her family home listening to her parents moan again about her not finishing her schooling. She had dropped out over a year ago, but there were times when her disappointed mother still refused to talk to her. Luckily, her oldest brother Ahto had gotten over his feelings about the matter because it was owing to his generosity that she was out of the house and out of London at what was by far the most spectacular event she'd been to in her life.
Just a few days before, her gloriously generous brother Ahto had owled her an invitation to what would most easily be described as a boat show- if that boat show was put on by a rather secretive society of filthy rich wizards who liked to show off their toys. The invitation had come on heavy parchment, with embossed lettering outlining only a list of dates (four consecutive days starting on a Friday) and a set of coordinates. The note her brother had included was almost as cryptic:
The little ones are ill, so this is for you. Dress nicely, bring money, and find a job, please. Try and stay mostly sober. It was not a lot to go off of, but any excuse to get out of the dingy London student hostel she was staying in was more than worth it.
The coordinates ended up being a point in the middle of the
Ionian Sea between Greece and the toes of Italy's boot. When consulting an atlas, Nelie found nothing near the point they indicated but a series of small, seemingly uninhabited islands. It was suspicious, but her brother had never led her too far astray and on the first day indicated on the invitation, she apparated to the spot.
The instant she opened her eyes (she still hadn't mastered apparating without scrunching her eyes shut and making strange faces- or so she'd been told), it had taken everything in her to keep her jaw from dropping to the ground. What had been just tiny dots of land on her maps had been converted into a bustling beach town with posh restaurants, swanky beach houses, bars, bars and more bars.
Stay mostly sober, her brother has asked. Not likely. As far as she could see, the shorelines were filled with every kind of boat imaginable, but with a strong emphasis on extravagant yachts. The blonde could hardly believe her eyes, and could almost imagine she could smell the money in the air. She knew her brother was a smooth talker, but she couldn't fathom how Ahto had ever scored an invitation to such an event. This was the kind of thing only the wealthiest of the wizarding elite could pull off.
The Scandinavian blonde spent the day wandering around the island admiring ship after ship (and accepting free drink after free drink). Many of the boats were set up like small parties and their owners- mostly middle aged, balding and pudgy around the middle with a habit of trying to see down her top- were always more than happy to show her around. From the people she met she gathered that the main event that evening would be the races between the rocks of the small archipelago and that an observation deck and betting tables had been set up on one of the more majestic of the yachts in the harbor.
When she found the boat in question, Nelie was glad (for the thousandth time that day) that she had followed her brother's advice to
dress nicely. There wasn't a soul on the yacht who wasn't dressed to the nines. She'd cobbled together all of the nicest parts of her wardrobe and still felt slightly underdressed. Her skirt clung to her hips and the top she'd stolen from one of her other brother's girlfriend's seemed to be making at least the creepy middle-aged men she'd met happy. Her feet though, not particularly used to heels after a year at sea were not so pleased. Knowing that the races weren't set to start for a while, she made her way to the bar on one end of the observation deck and sat, as gracefully as someone who wasn't raised around this sort of wealth possibly could. She gave the man in the seat next to her a quick smile before trying to flag down the bartender who seemed to be occupied charming miniature ice sculptures in the shape of racing ships to glide across the counter. It was impressive, but not as impressive as a good drink.
