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sweetpinkpixie · 04-09-2026, 11:37 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Kimothy

Ask anyone who knew Nikita Vitvinina-Grahn about her potential location anywhere in the world, and Diagon Alley wouldn't be in the top ten list. Maybe not even the top twenty - but here she was today. Let the record show, however, that she didn't hate the Alley. It simply was not her first choice to run to, but since she'd started her university studies in muggle Oxford, it ought not to be a surprise that she would sometimes yearn for a magical atmosphere. She was a long way from Oxford, but Nikita always had plenty of reasons to find herself in London anyway.

Besides, since it wasn't the summer break yet - although it certainly would be a few days from now when the Hogwarts kids arrive - Nikita did not have to deal with the surge of foot traffic that consisted of teenagers and parents alike. She did not hate people, but oh how quickly an introvert could get overwhelmed amid a sea of bodies pushing past each other. The best time to be here, if any, was now.

Vaguely remembering that there was a café in the Alley - and not knowing which part it was, wanting to avoid talking to strangers if she could manage - Nikita was relieved to see she'd chosen the correct end to venture. The south side. She'll have to remember that now, can't miss the moving stag on the logo. She would not have minded walking the entirety of the Alley if it came to it for she could entertain herself by observing people and window shopping along the way. Happy chances.

How she wished the coffee wouldn't disappoint her. A lady would never admit, but she was quite the coffee snob. But if she got herself a safe order, perhaps a latte, then could it really go so wrong? (Yes, some cafés can in fact ruin a simple latte, but she shall keep her sentiments to herself.) She could sit outside too and read whilst indulging in some people-watching. Now that's a plan.

Diamond had secured her table like it was a press box. A cappuccino sat just off-center ― the one that had two pumps of caramel, one of vanilla, and was cinnamon dusted with oat milk because she had standards ― and beside it a croissant she'd barely touched (for aesthetics, mostly) and adjacent to that a fruit salad she did intend to eat eventually. Brain food, she’d told the exasperated barista, with a smile as she collected her things with her freshly manicured hands.

The rest of the table was a controlled disaster.

Parchment sheets layered over one another in a system only she understood consisting of interview questions, player stats, and half-written opening lines or segways for her segment. A quill tucked into one of her space buns and another in hand. Her sunglasses rested atop a folded copy of her other notes and a small collection of items from her bag — lip gloss, a compact mirror, a beaded charm, bottle of deep pumpkin nail varnish, and so on — served as paperweights against the light breeze of Diagon Alley.

WWN listener numbers didn't lie and for the past several months her segments had been sitting comfortably at the top. Something burgeoning into something bigger than just 'promising talent' or 'newcomer's luck'. She was becoming required listening.

Naturally. Duh. Had been since she was a baby babbling on air on her mum's segment.

"Let’s see…" she murmured to herself, tapping the end of her quill against her lip as she scanned a page. Just a couple more tweaks and she could start on her fruit, perhaps. Finish up within the next hour or two and still have plenty of time to pick up some flowers to bring back to Theia before dinner.

A breeze swept through just then and one of her looser sheets slipped free from under a lipstick tube, lifting into the air with traitorous enthusiasm. Diamond’s head snapped up as the page drifted across the space and landed near another table. She rose immediately, heels clicking with purpose as she gave chase.

The page in question wasn't just notes. It was a moving headshot, the image of a Quidditch Seeker mid-hover, wind whipping through his hair as he turned slightly, looping the same confident glance every few seconds and dashing, debonair smile.

"Oi! A foot or anything on that?!" she called out while shimming between the narrow space of two chairs filled by two people who apparently couldn't bother to scoot in and make her life easier.

04-09-2026, 11:37 AM	#185 (permalink)
sweetpinkpixie SSRPG Admin Gladrags Mod Quibbler Mod Minister for Magic Alley Proprietor Sea Serpent Join Date: Aug 2010 Location: The Paths Posts: 41,560 Hogwarts RPG Name: Professor Cox Ravenclaw Graduated Hogwarts RPG Name: CJ Miller Gryffindor Fourth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Nyle Harden Hufflepuff Seventh Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Iris Harden Ravenclaw Seventh Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Jae-hyuk Anouilh Slytherin Seventh Year Ministry Department Head: Charles Hollingberry Minister's Office Ministry Department Head: Airey Flamsteed Mysteries Diagon Alley Proprietor: Victor García Massey Ollivanders x12 x12	astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK \| & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf Quote: Originally Posted by Kimothy Ask anyone who knew Nikita Vitvinina-Grahn about her potential location anywhere in the world, and Diagon Alley wouldn't be in the top ten list. Maybe not even the top twenty - but here she was today. Let the record show, however, that she didn't hate the Alley. It simply was not her first choice to run to, but since she'd started her university studies in muggle Oxford, it ought not to be a surprise that she would sometimes yearn for a magical atmosphere. She was a long way from Oxford, but Nikita always had plenty of reasons to find herself in London anyway. Besides, since it wasn't the summer break yet - although it certainly would be a few days from now when the Hogwarts kids arrive - Nikita did not have to deal with the surge of foot traffic that consisted of teenagers and parents alike. She did not hate people, but oh how quickly an introvert could get overwhelmed amid a sea of bodies pushing past each other. The best time to be here, if any, was now. Vaguely remembering that there was a café in the Alley - and not knowing which part it was, wanting to avoid talking to strangers if she could manage - Nikita was relieved to see she'd chosen the correct end to venture. The south side. She'll have to remember that now, can't miss the moving stag on the logo. She would not have minded walking the entirety of the Alley if it came to it for she could entertain herself by observing people and window shopping along the way. Happy chances. How she wished the coffee wouldn't disappoint her. A lady would never admit, but she was quite the coffee snob. But if she got herself a safe order, perhaps a latte, then could it really go so wrong? (Yes, some cafés can in fact ruin a simple latte, but she shall keep her sentiments to herself.) She could sit outside too and read whilst indulging in some people-watching. Now that's a plan. Diamond had secured her table like it was a press box. A cappuccino sat just off-center ― the one that had two pumps of caramel, one of vanilla, and was cinnamon dusted with oat milk because she had standards ― and beside it a croissant she'd barely touched (for aesthetics, mostly) and adjacent to that a fruit salad she did intend to eat eventually. Brain food, she’d told the exasperated barista, with a smile as she collected her things with her freshly manicured hands. The rest of the table was a controlled disaster. Parchment sheets layered over one another in a system only she understood consisting of interview questions, player stats, and half-written opening lines or segways for her segment. A quill tucked into one of her space buns and another in hand. Her sunglasses rested atop a folded copy of her other notes and a small collection of items from her bag — lip gloss, a compact mirror, a beaded charm, bottle of deep pumpkin nail varnish, and so on — served as paperweights against the light breeze of Diagon Alley. WWN listener numbers didn't lie and for the past several months her segments had been sitting comfortably at the top. Something burgeoning into something bigger than just 'promising talent' or 'newcomer's luck'. She was becoming required listening. Naturally. Duh. Had been since she was a baby babbling on air on her mum's segment. "Let’s see…" she murmured to herself, tapping the end of her quill against her lip as she scanned a page. Just a couple more tweaks and she could start on her fruit, perhaps. Finish up within the next hour or two and still have plenty of time to pick up some flowers to bring back to Theia before dinner. A breeze swept through just then and one of her looser sheets slipped free from under a lipstick tube, lifting into the air with traitorous enthusiasm. Diamond’s head snapped up as the page drifted across the space and landed near another table. She rose immediately, heels clicking with purpose as she gave chase. The page in question wasn't just notes. It was a moving headshot, the image of a Quidditch Seeker mid-hover, wind whipping through his hair as he turned slightly, looping the same confident glance every few seconds and dashing, debonair smile. "Oi! A foot or anything on that?!" she called out while shimming between the narrow space of two chairs filled by two people who apparently couldn't bother to scoot in and make her life easier. __________________ We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back......................................... But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass..................................... The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like