(no subject)
Harry didn't know where the time had gone. It didn't seem all that long since he'd been celebrating turning twenty-seven on the island, and here he was, just about to end up the wrong side of twenty-eight.
A lot had changed since then - new friends had arrived and old friends had gone, he'd received some unlikely gifts and got into a few unfortunate scrapes, practically everyone seemed to be getting engaged - but he felt he was pretty much the same as he always was. After chatting with Sonya, he'd decided to take a leaf from Shari Cooper's book and give the party a retro theme. But since this was 'retro' by his own standards, that meant the Roaring Twenties; hopefully, that wasn't ancient history to the rest of the island's residents and they'd be able to get into the spirit of things.
Plenty of people had lent him a helping hand in fitting out the Officer's Club as a makeshift speakeasy for the night. It wasn't a big venue, but speakeasies never were (so he was told; he'd only been a child during Prohibition), and with the right lighting and a few strategically-placed drapes, it certainly managed to look the part. Helen from the Catscratch had kindly lent him some speakers and that magic little jukebox thing she called an iPod, and the clothes box had even managed to oblige him with an outfit that was both appropriate and actually fit. He looked rather dashing, even if he said so himself.
People were starting to arrive, and Harry had a good feeling about tonight. Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe he'd much rather be home, but with good music and good friends, and quite a number of bottles of the homemade wine he hadn't tested as yet, he reckoned it'd still be a night to remember.
[Yeah, it's that time of year again. Good friends, vague acquaintances and gatecrashers all welcome, and for anything else, see the post in slated. Going up early because I'm busy this evening; tagging at my end may be slow as a result.]
A lot had changed since then - new friends had arrived and old friends had gone, he'd received some unlikely gifts and got into a few unfortunate scrapes, practically everyone seemed to be getting engaged - but he felt he was pretty much the same as he always was. After chatting with Sonya, he'd decided to take a leaf from Shari Cooper's book and give the party a retro theme. But since this was 'retro' by his own standards, that meant the Roaring Twenties; hopefully, that wasn't ancient history to the rest of the island's residents and they'd be able to get into the spirit of things.
Plenty of people had lent him a helping hand in fitting out the Officer's Club as a makeshift speakeasy for the night. It wasn't a big venue, but speakeasies never were (so he was told; he'd only been a child during Prohibition), and with the right lighting and a few strategically-placed drapes, it certainly managed to look the part. Helen from the Catscratch had kindly lent him some speakers and that magic little jukebox thing she called an iPod, and the clothes box had even managed to oblige him with an outfit that was both appropriate and actually fit. He looked rather dashing, even if he said so himself.
People were starting to arrive, and Harry had a good feeling about tonight. Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe he'd much rather be home, but with good music and good friends, and quite a number of bottles of the homemade wine he hadn't tested as yet, he reckoned it'd still be a night to remember.
[Yeah, it's that time of year again. Good friends, vague acquaintances and gatecrashers all welcome, and for anything else, see the post in slated. Going up early because I'm busy this evening; tagging at my end may be slow as a result.]