she's a wildflower waiting on the winds of change to blow

Tag: @madeline

Ireland's Outfit

Summer had gotten here before she had known it, and all of a sudden they were underway. Quidditch. Quidditch was underway. LJ had graduated from school, and he had joined the Kestrals, and Ireland didn't really know what was going to happen next, but she also thought that it really didn't matter. She was happy, and she knew that that was just sort of rubbing it in her father's face, but she was. He had finally come back to working at the Ministry, she knew because she had seen him in the halls. He had avoided making eye contact, that much was certain, but she knew that he was there, that he had finally given in. And she had to hope that maybe it meant that he wouldn't hate her choices forever. She wasn't about to just up and change them to make him happy. She wouldn't base her choices on what he thought, not when she had done something that she had never done before, and she had actually fallen for someone. Falling for him had never been the plan. Much less an expectation, but then she had. And she had told him. She had told him that she loved him, and she hadn't expected it back. Love was a four letter word that you just didn't say. Ireland knew that it would be risky to say it in the first place. She hadn't wanted to scare him, or pressure him, or anything. So she had said it, and she had moved on. And then he had said it back. Out of the blue, he had said he loved her too, and she didn't think that there was anything more exciting than that. There was no need to be a giddy school girl over it though. They could just move on and it would work. This worked. They worked. And Ireland thought that they worked because they didn't push it. It worked because there was no pressure, there was no need for things to be complicated, no need to ask what they were doing, and where this was going? They were them, and they were here, right now, and that was all that mattered. Right here, right now, and she knew. She knew, and he knew, and that was as easy as that. Whether or not she was going with him to his aunt's wedding, she didn't know, but if there was one thing that Ireland did know, it was that she was going to need an appropriate dress. Anicka and Malcolm were getting married on the beach in Africa, and Ireland thought that a good majority of her nicer clothes, were too formal for the beach. It was a situation that she didn't quite know what to do with... Because on one hand, dressing down, and being super casual seemed to be the vibe, but on the other hand, this was a royal wedding. Anicka was very much a real life princess, and Ireland wasn't entirely convinced that dressing down was appropriate either. She wasn't one to be overly concerned about what it was that she was going to wear, and she supposed that she could have asked Ella. That she would have helped her, but she was busy too, and Ireland didn't think that she needed it to be even more clear that she was more of a shorts and Ray Bans kind of girl than she was princess material. Luckily, she thought that Nick didn't care. That being royal didn't really suit him either, and they weren't main line anyway. Not like his aunt was, not like Ella was. Ireland would have bowed out gracefully a long time ago if someone thought that she was going to have to act like she fit in that life. But that wasn't a concern. Still, getting a dress for this wedding she might be going to was. It was a concern, because she didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb when there were princesses and duchesses and everyone else there. She didn't want to look terrible... And so she had settled on Gladrags. It wasn't anyplace that she usually went, but she thought that it was better than going to KA and running into someone that Nick was related to. Pushing the door to the shop open she made her way towards some of the dresses that were on display, keeping an eye out for anyone that could be around to maybe point her in the right direction.

[googlefont="Questrial"][googlefont="Rock Salt"]

Maddie had spent her morning sorting socks. Screaming socks, to be more specific. It was kind of a big deal among her staff members so she was trying to get to the root of the problem. There was a defective sock in the pile that her cashier had neglected to keep out of the "good" bin. That stupid sock was shrieking all bloody morning and she couldn't find it because it erupted in a single spine tingling scream at the most spontaneous moments. Usually when she wasn't looking or as she left the room. It was as if the sock knew.

The screaming socks given purpose was to scream when they were too smelly, or if its match was missing. When they were missing it was more of a pathetic cry... She hated those damn socks. Not only were they in the most garish patterns and colors, they were just downright annoying. This was a frequent issue. The blond learned quick that not every sock had the same basic scream or cry, either. There was a chorus of screams and whines when more than one sock was missing its match. Magic was weird.

Maddie was staring at the pile in silence as she twiddled her thumbs when the bell above the front door chimed, signaling her that a customer had entered the shop. In that moment she froze. That bugger was no doubt going to scream at any second, it made her stomach hit the floor. Maddie quickly spun out of the office chair, scrambling to her feet as she flattened her skirt and brushed hair away from her eyes.

"Bonjouuuur!" The blond sang a cheerful greeting as she emerged from the back office with an overly friendly smile, her blue eyes brightening as they fell on the female. She instantly admired her all white outfit, wishing she could pull off such a bold look. The blond was far too clumsy to wear so much white. There'd no doubt be food, ink, other unmentionables, all over her by the end of the day. "Welcome to Gladrags. My name is Madeline." she greeted in a thick French accent as she approached the brunette who was browsing dresses on a fancy display rack. "--Let me just start off by saying you look amazing. I totally love your blouse - so clean and chic." Madeline complimented with a bubbly air about her, resisting the urge to paw at the fabric. It was a fashionista thing...         Her colleagues at Witch Weekly would probably harbor the same urge. "May I help you find anything? Are you shopping for a special occ--"

Then it happened...

'AHHHhhhHhhHhHHhhHhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGgggHH!!!' Before she could even finish her spiel, the sock was screaming like a banshee. The chipper smile instantly wiped clean from her face, blue eyes widening to saucers in absolute horror, leaving her utterly speechless with a stupid look on her face.

Great. It sounded like she  was potentially holding someone hostage in the back office. And then it screamed again.

---

@ireland | | NOTE: Endless apologies for how long this took, I totally spaced out!

SWANSKI

She's A

Wildflower

Ireland had considered going to see her mother this summer. She hadn’t seen her since before Christmas, and she missed her. More and anything she thought that she missed family in general. And it wasn’t like she didn’t have any. Dad and Logan were in Ireland, but they didn’t want anything to do with her. She had picked the ‘wrong side’, whatever that meant. She was a Gryffindor, and she was supposed to ‘know better’. Ireland still hadn’t figured out what that was supposed to mean. Because as far as she could see, the people that were kindest to her right now, were the people that her father seemed to hate. Because the people that she loved, were the people that her mother had left her father over. And Ireland hadn’t known how something like that could crumble a marriage, but she thought that she could see it now. If someone would have told her that she couldn’t love Logan, just because he didn’t believe in what they did, she would leave too.

Nick wasn’t like that. And she didn’t think that he ever would be. He wasn’t controlling. He wasn’t demanding. He didn’t care who she loved, or what ‘side’ she was supposedly on. She knew that his dad was a Death Eater. She knew that his uncle was. But she knew that his mum hadn’t been. She knew that all of this was something that he was caught in the middle of too. That was just how it was working out, and Ireland didn’t think that she would do anything to screw this up right now. She didn’t think that she was going to blow this, by disagreeing with him. They didn’t agree on every little thing, and that was just part of it. But they didn’t fight over something like that. She didn’t think that she had ever really fought with him. They might have bickered over something inconsequential. Like who was doing push-ups wrong, or something. But not that.

Trying to put all of that out of her mind, she thought that she needed to focus on what she had come here for in the first place. She was supposed to be getting a dress for Anička Wentzell’s wedding. If that wasn’t an intimidating thought she didn’t know what was. The woman was a real-life princess, and more than that, she was a fashion designer. Ireland couldn’t just show up in anything. And she thought that if they were going to a church, and there were certain rules that had to be followed, she might have had an easier go of picking something that was appropriate. But this… This was not something that was going to be easy to check all of the boxes for. She was going to have to figure it out though, she didn’t have much of a choice. There was only one way to do it at this point. She had to smile, and find a dress, and it would be fine.

Of course, it would be fine. When the woman in front of her started to speak Ireland smiled. She hadn’t seen her at first, but she had appeared after only a moment. “Thank you.” She had gone for all white today, in a rare moment of believing that she could go all day without getting anything on her. Somehow, she had succeeded, which shocked her about as much as it would anyone. Before the woman could finish speaking again however, there was a loud screaming noise coming from somewhere in the back of the shop. Ireland felt her eyes go wide and it was more than a moment before she regained her composure. “I…” She started to speak in the moment after the screaming stopped, but before she could get more than a word out it happened again. “My word!” There was a laugh in her voice, but Ireland didn’t know if she was actually supposed to find it funny or not. “What is that?”

@ maddie - 665 - ireland's outfit

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