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properlines October 2 2010, 05:43:50 UTC
*Emmeline's gaze travels down to the tips of her black suede knee-high boots, which have landed on a gum wrapper. Distastefully stepping forward, she scans the premise, her nose wrinkling slightly before looking away as though the dilapidated surroundings were currently insulting her by their mere existence.

Onlookers are definitely taking notice of her ensemble of dress, which she is beginning to regret. However, it would take a lot more than a questionable concert venue to break that legendary sense of self worth and she meets Davey's stare coolly.*

Naturally.

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blankrevolution October 2 2010, 05:59:59 UTC
*Despite Emmeline's confident tone, his scepticism grows.*

Right, well, expect those boots of yours to be trampled.

*He approaches the small ticket booth and gives a heavily tattooed man a few quid.*

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properlines October 2 2010, 06:12:45 UTC
*She doesn't care what Davey thinks or what anyone thinks. Or, that's what Emmeline's trying to convince herself of when she opens her wallet to deposit the sum of money into the palm of the man's hand.

Her optimism doesn't grow, but her expression is trained not to change when she's in uncomfortable situations. The mentality she adopts right when she walks into the building is that she's definitely been in worst scenarios. What's a Muggle concert in comparison?*

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blankrevolution October 2 2010, 07:08:34 UTC
*The Tank is full of the usual suspects for a Friday night, and while he nods and gives short greetings to familiar faces, he notices their eyes resting on Emmeline, then back to Davey, then back to Emmeline with looks of utmost confusion. He's far from surprised: a refined young woman with impractical boots and a cocktail dress standing next to a young man wearing old black jeans and a well worn grey shirt with a hole on the chest isn't exactly commonplace.*

Melvin should be around here somewhere...

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