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The Roof | Sunday Evening Onwards
Sunday, March 29th, 2020 11:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bookbeltof_loveNina had… possibly… gone a bit (okay a lot) all out for this party.
It was just that once she'd started looking up ideas she just couldn't help but get carried away. Knowing Wayne, she'd been incredibly restrained in the use of glitter—there was still bits of it, here and there, but she'd kept in minimal—instead choosing to use magic to emphasize the fact that this party might be taking place on the dorm roof but… really… they were all out in the bush.
It was probably best to not ask how much work it had taken her to magic up the carpet of grasses and the way trees stood along the edges of the roof against all defiance of how the roof usually was. The bonfire that crackled merrily in the center of the roof was sheer perfection, the absolute pinnacle of a bonfire.
And, importantly, it wasn't going to burn anything that it shouldn't. It tossed off plenty of heat and light and you could make s'mores in it—she'd made one, already, to test—just fine, but if you walked through it all that was going to happen was you'd be incredibly toasty warm.
Lawn chairs and plaid (and only plaid) blankets and cushions abound, scattered amongst the grass and underneath the branches of the trees that most definitely had not been there earlier in the day.
The most glittery thing was the banner she'd put on the greenhouse wall that read, in bright, sparkly letters:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WAYNE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
She hadn't been able to resist.
[OCD is up! Party ON! And the fact that there's booze at this party is NFB, please!]
It was just that once she'd started looking up ideas she just couldn't help but get carried away. Knowing Wayne, she'd been incredibly restrained in the use of glitter—there was still bits of it, here and there, but she'd kept in minimal—instead choosing to use magic to emphasize the fact that this party might be taking place on the dorm roof but… really… they were all out in the bush.
It was probably best to not ask how much work it had taken her to magic up the carpet of grasses and the way trees stood along the edges of the roof against all defiance of how the roof usually was. The bonfire that crackled merrily in the center of the roof was sheer perfection, the absolute pinnacle of a bonfire.
And, importantly, it wasn't going to burn anything that it shouldn't. It tossed off plenty of heat and light and you could make s'mores in it—she'd made one, already, to test—just fine, but if you walked through it all that was going to happen was you'd be incredibly toasty warm.
Lawn chairs and plaid (and only plaid) blankets and cushions abound, scattered amongst the grass and underneath the branches of the trees that most definitely had not been there earlier in the day.
The most glittery thing was the banner she'd put on the greenhouse wall that read, in bright, sparkly letters:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WAYNE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
She hadn't been able to resist.
[OCD is up! Party ON! And the fact that there's booze at this party is NFB, please!]