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@amescastaignede
These are links to information you can read regarding Amélie Castaignéde. This contains only a few of the created pages and links. The full navigation has a more extensive list, however, the most prominent are listed below.
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VICTORIA PEDRETTI via Instagram
She was relieved to hear that. "I am fine." She always was when she had Guilluame and JĂ©rĂ´me around. "Did you want a drink?"
Turning to Maria, she nodded. "You know what, sounds like a perfect idea. Maybe that way everything will be blurry, and I'll think I'm going elsewhere, and for a moment...I won't be scared. How...how about a shot?" A first. She shied away from them, usually. "Or two." Twice the surprise.
@amescastaignede Event: Valentine's 2026. Time: Post-reveal.
"Look, if it's any consolation, I won't be upset if you want to go off and do your own thing. I know I'm probably not who you were intending to bid on," he started, before she could dart off upon seeing his arrival. Amélie, on the few occasions he'd seen her, gave deer in headlights energy. "It could also be worse. At least you're not Leyla."
Amélie's arms were crossed over her stomach, the tell-tale sign of nerves breaking the barrier of her mind. It could've been way worse, she knew that much. She'd met this man, in fact, been intrigued by him as well. Her first trip abroad, and it was with....Varden. She gulped, sucked in a breath, and opened her mouth to speak. "I, uh...well, I would much rather stay with you...I've never, y'know, been abroad. Or got on a plane or a boat, for that matter...in reality, it sounds like I haven't really lived, beyond a yacht on the River Thames."
And the last time, she'd escaped before the real trouble found them.
A nervous laugh broke through, "I saw some far worse dates up there this evening, on that much, we will agree." she finally looked him in the eye, dragging them from the floor. "You're stuck with me, I promise I'm not boring."
FOR: @drrutherford
WHEN: Post-Reveal Reaction.
The French...her eyes found Gideon immediately when the reveal of his went live. When his name was placed next to one she knew...had seen. And doe eyes, slowly, closed, fluttering to keep at bay the emotions swirling behind them. It was followed by a flare of her nostrils, a pull at the cross at her neck, and a lick at drying lips.
Brilliant. Amélie simply picked up her wine, and took a large sip.
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@amescastaignede
"Sooo, I saw you bid on Amsterdam..." Alexis noted innocently as she sidled up to Amélie. "Are you sure you bid on the one you wanted? There were two of them up for grabs if I remember correctly."
Amélie, hearing Alexis only in part, placed a second bid as she turned around. "Yeah, I am!" A smile spreading across her lips. "I really thought going abroad for the first time, while also visiting coffee shops sounds right up my street...why? Did you want it, too?"
for: @amescastaignede
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Maria spotted Amélie off to the side and, not wanting her friend alone, she joined her.
"Better than I initially thought, awkward on some accounts." Nodding her head over to where Gideon was, conversing with those she no longer found herself in the immediate vicinity with on a regular. "And you?"
He's two drinks and three shots in by the time he sees her, so really, it's not as cruel a run-in as life has often handed him, in the almost two years since they broke up.
He's about to speak when she sees him, that terribly familiar deer-in-the-headlights look shooting an old arrow straight through his ribs. It's followed by a predictable blush on her cheeks, the same ones he'd so often capture back when they were dating... He holds his glass a little more tightly, grateful to have something else with which to occupy his hands.
"Thank you, had me worried there for a sec." He teases, when she reminds herself audibly that he's allowed to be in a public place with her. "If I'm at risk of any other infractions, I'm trusting you'll let me know before they haul me away in handcuffs."
... Given the theme of the night, it seems the wrong mental image to paint. Gideon struggles on quickly. "Masked men? You're the second person who seems intent on jinxing this thing." Not that she doesn't have cause for concern. His mind travels to a different setting; the Berkeley Estate in Guildford, the chaos that had erupted when Russian mobsters stormed the place, and his absolute fright trying to get his then-girlfriend out in time... It's a sobering reminder of all the reasons they shouldn't be together, all the reasons Amélie was right to break things off with him.
Still, she needn't fear the worst, tonight. She's already got that very Amélie energy about her — to fly into a full panic would be the worst way for her to start a date. And although some selfish part of him protests the thought that she's about to be swept off her feet by some other man, he's not selfish enough to leave her floundering alone beforehand.
"Come on then, let's get you a drink." The Rutherford offers placidly, extending his free hand behind her in invitation, but keeping a careful few inches between his fingers and the bare skin of her back. "And you can tell me about which dates have caught your eye."
Because you're clearly a masochist, the voice in the back of his head deadpans quietly.
"Handcuffs. Right." No longer was it a pretty blush, but a full burn of crimson. Amélie wasn't sure how she was meant to feel. This...this was never easy. Not when it came to the man before her. "Sticking to the theme. Very... on brand for a Valentine’s fundraiser," she managed barely, voice hitching an octave. "And I wasn't jinxing it, not intentionally...anyways. I was, y'know....well, merely performing a risk assessment." Hand sweeping out. "It’s what I do. I assess, categorize, prepare for the structural failure of the evening so that when it happens, I can say I saw it coming and get the hell outta' dodge."
She was half-joking, half not.
Gideon had an ability most did not: the way he could calm her pulse down if he so wished, but also the inability to stop the racing thoughts that currently negated that. So many memories were clutching at the edges of her mind, and she did her best to push them back. A smile painted tight.
Two years, and still...not enough time had passed to erase that mark. Had it been branded with fire? And if so, would the scare remain forever? While Amélie wasn't mad at Gideon anymore, she still had this tinge that had been left behind. Pain, it never truly went away.
And pain demanded to be felt.
Amélie's gaze followed the lead of his hand. Amélie remembered his hands well, and like a reminder, a memory — where she'd used to be filled by his touch, and the vacuum of it felt heavier with each passing second.
"A drink. Yes. A drink is... uh, sure...we can, let's — go," babbling while her feet were already moving. Like she could still shut her brain off in his presence, even if the room was crawling with the...others. She felt like a small boat being towed into a harbor by a very handsome, very dangerous tugboat. "And as for the dates... I uh, well...I don't want to go too far from here...y'know...but I might dip my toes into a surrounding, close trip away..." She'd never been fond of travelling far, scared of planes. And frankly? Change. "I just don't wanna not try anything...be so closed off."
Amélie didn't give more than that away, eyes looking at every passing face now but his. "And you?" Because she didn't wish to see his expression when he answered. Did she even want to know? "Already made up your mind? ..." — was he even still single? That sent a sharp, twisting sensation through her chest.
FOR: @drrutherford
The twitch of a hand, lips parting to keep a hammering heart at bay: a comfort zone was not a known want in a room like this. So loud, so boisterous that she'd been pacing. Not in one spot, but instead lapping the room. Anxiety had a way, it always had. It would've been better, she thought, if she'd been able to come with Gideon. But that ship had sailed long ago, and left her in a storm she wasn't sure she would ever truly recover from. It took one lift of her eyes, and Amélie stopped short, the air in her lungs snagging.
Amélie thought of Gideon, and he appeared. Fuck off manifestation.
Looking...as he always did. Perfect...
"Gideon! Hi. Uh...God, hello. You’re... here." That devastating realisation painted her cheeks a red he might've once remembered. But it felt like so long ago already... "Right. Public auction, people are allowed to be in public places. Especially...uh, public ones" And her mind was doing that thing — where it allowed her to speak before she could stop herself. Repeating. "It’s a very complex system, the anonymity with the dates, I...uh, I mean.... It’s very Phantom of the Opera minus the, y'know, chandelier accidents. I’m just praying no masked men turn up to this affair — which, i mean, under the circumstances," she took one glance around the room. No one was safe. "Charities tend to be safe..." Amélie hoped.
Was any of the dates truly safe bets? How many of them were wolves in sheep's clothing? Not Gideon...not truly. It was only by association, but one she could not and would not afford.
No matter how much she wished differently.
"If I end up bidding on your date, it is strictly a statistical anomaly and I will be on my best behaviour." Amélie said in flat jest. Oh...this was...awkward. She was awkward.
@amescastaignede Event: Valentine's Day 2026.
"Well, you look like an actual princess. I'm always free for a date if none of the options appeal," she teased, reaching out to squeeze the woman's hand gently in greeting. Nora knew that this situation was likely a little overwhelming. It was important to her that Amélie knew she had someone in her corner. "Speaking of which, if any of the dates do take your fancy, I can be your sugar mama for the night. I don't mind sharing some money for the kiddos, and you deserve a nice getaway ."
As always, her worst nightmare was presented before her. Charity functions, galas, birthday parties...socialising. Why did it have to be so hard? So bloody draining? Amélie tugged at the dress, took a larger than usual sip of her wine and grimaced. It wasn't until that song-like voice pierced her racing thoughts that a smile touched her painted lips. "Nora..." relief, shoulders sagging. "You're one to be talking...has anyone ever told you that you should've been a model? I mean...just, wow. Look...I look like a fish out of water, and you— look like you've known how to swim in it your whole life." She was, as always, rambling.
Cheeks dusting read, she bowed her head in thanks. "I...I think bidding low might be the best option for me. As much as I'd love to go for some of those dates...flying and me? It has to stay minimal." Amélie arched a brow. "What about you? Any that take your fancy?"
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AMÉLIE CASTAIGNEDE: valentine's day auction, 2026.
Escorted by: herselffff.
Just as the word clown left her mouth, Oscar blinked to see Amelie near him. He'd been scouting out the dancefloor for a minute now, but, red pom-pom shapes caught his eyes. The corner of his lips twitching despite himself, "Can’t say you didn’t nail the brief," he said, giving her costume an approving once-over, "Any party tricks?" he asked, thumbs running underneath his suspenders, "Can you make balloon animals?"
His tone stayed even, steady against the noise around them. Lifting his glass and pointing to the dance floor, "I’ve been looking for something better to do too. Standing around feels like work, and I’m supposed to be off the clock," Oscar eyes flickered toward the dance floor, faint grin returning, "Could always show the rest of them how it’s done, or we find something stronger than the house cocktails. Dealer’s choice."
"Mm, ha, fortunately for you...and me, and everyone in this room...no balloon animals. I’m afraid the only thing I’m good at inflating is my own anxiety. And even then, I kinda' suck at it." Verbal explosion, 1. Amélie...freaking zero.
As damn always.
"I...no, I'm okay...thank you. It's not...you, I just...well, you see, my feet? There's kinda' two left versions of them, and your toes would end up hurt...badly, and I would end up embarrassed -- which ends up in me being beetroot red-- which again? Good for no one." She barely took a breath. "I don’t think I can show anyone how it’s done, and sure as the earth I'm standing on, no one has the ability to teach me. I move like the terminator. And please, don't ask me to do an impression...I'm terrible.. So, I guess that's my way of trying to politely decline your offer...but instead, I talked your ear off for no good reason."
Finally, she took a breath. And instantly, her cheeks did exactly what she feared they would do. And it was all her own doing. God damn it. This was...bad. She was awful at communicating. "I'm sorry...when I'm nervous...I talk..." a lot. "I think you're right. Stronger drinks might make this easier."
Hasan’s gaze found her across the crowd, taking in the careful posture and practiced smile. He let a slow, deliberate smile creep across his own face as he approached, cane tapping softly.
“Ah, the ever-dutiful guest,” he said, voice smooth but carrying just enough weight to make her pause. “Sucking it up, as always… though I might argue there’s a certain art to standing alone and still commanding attention.”
He inclined his head slightly, letting his eyes study her with that faintly dangerous curiosity. “I trust you’re not here merely to be part of the scenery?” (@amescastaignede)
"At least it isn't Happy Camper Hasan this time, I can tell you that." It was the first words she allowed herself to utter when he came into frame. She was glad she hadn't had to brace herself for that tragedy all over again. Amélie, for some reason, gave Hasan a less painted-on mask with which she’d walked in with, and somewhere...somehow attempted a more quiet politeness.
"I...uh, yeah, I really, really don’t think anyone here is paying that much attention to me so I guess you could say I'm here for..." Gideon "Work," She wasn't here for him, not anymore. It didn't stop those intrusive thoughts from slipping in from time to time. Things had quietened down, but when his family was here? It was never easy. And some of them didn't make it so.
"The scenery is what I'm here for..." Obviously not.
She was a reporter after all. They were all aware of her standing.
"I will say though...Hasan, If I’m commanding anything, it’s probably the corner behind me." she gave him a once over. "How about you? What made you want to hang around these...." Criminals. "People."
Catalina had a habit of being drawn to the people that a party who desperately needed to have some fun. It was like a 6th sense she was pleased to have.
"I mean...there's always more to do. I have party favors if you want things to get extra spicy. You can hit on one of the many hot men and women here, there are maybe....possibly...some not involved heavily in a faction somewhere??? oh and there's dancing. Which, beside the party favors, is my favorite thing."
Party favors. Hitting on hot men and women. Dancing.
Her pulse thudded hard against her ribs. That was not something Amélie could see herself doing unless she downed more of those fruity drinks they were serving behind the bar. And even then...it'd be a push.
"Ah…ha, about that...well, I...hm, I—" The words jammed in her throat. You can speak. You can breathe. Don’t make a scene. "I don’t think I’m… very good at hitting on anyone.” a humourless laugh. "Or party favours.” Cheeks warming instantly. Oh god, this is so damn embarrassing "blooming as she added, "I’m not really the… um… 'spicy' type." maybe this wasn't the person that was going to get her through the night.
"Are you...having fun, at least?"
It had been a while since Ayda and Amélie had a real chance to talk. Spotting her across the room, Ayda made her way over, a gentle smile tugging at her lips as she took in Amélie’s outfit. “You look beautiful,” she said warmly.
Her gaze flicked toward an empty table nearby before she added softly, “Want to sit and catch up? It’s been too long.” She was still finding her footing among the crowd, but being near Amélie made it easier.
The compliment was enough to have Amélie nod her head in thanks, the corner of her lips upturning. "Oh? Me...aw, uh, thank you, Ayda." there'd always been something she liked about this woman, and while she was quick to judge most people -- it wasn't often she found it in her ability to do so when it came to her. "As always, you are..well, you're damn well perfect." it was the most clear she'd spoken all night, between her outbursts of random facts that no one wanted to know, or the sheer amount of word vomit...it wasn't so aggressive with Ayda, either.
Amélie followed her gaze to the seats Ayda was referring to, as she gave a small nod. "That sounds great, it'd be nice to...you know...get away from all of this-- just for a while." she gestured forwards. "Lead the way."
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"There's always judging others for their costume choices. The flaming hot cheeto for example." Personally, she hoped Gianna would overheat and die but she kept that to herself. Pretenses to keep up with this one. "Besides, you'll need the buzz tonight. So drink up." Vika handed her a full drink and clinked her own to it.
Amélie probably shouldn't have accepted the drink, but the two encounters she'd had with Viktoriya over attendances to parties -- she'd always found the other woman blunt, but kind. Looking down at the offending alcohol, she considered pretending to drink it before dumping it, once out of sight. But something in her gut said: drink it.
"You know what, you're right." though, she tried to look for the Cheeto the other woman she talking about. Now, that? She had to see. "Bottoms up." raising her glass to Vika. And Amélie threw her head back, and downed the lot.
"That...was strong." Oh...god.
"Sure. You can also sit down whilst you talk and drink."
It wasn't exactly the kind of place he expected to see her...nor did he anticipate that she would actually dress up with quite so much enthusiasm. Colour him surprised, as he stood around looking like he was dressed as security. Ayaz didn't do Hallowe'en.
Even though he was surprised to see her at a Rutherford party, he wouldn't say it aloud. It was probably weighing heavy enough.
"It's been a while, huh?"
It had been a while. That voice, it hadn't taken her a second to recognize it as she turned around to face him. A clear memory, Christmas day, and a fluffy pet named Wotsit who'd made her territory known. Ayaz, even if he wasn't dressed up, always looked like he belonged here. Whereas she… well. The clown comment hadn’t been a joke entirely. Amélie knew her limitations, and parties such as these were far from it.
"Yeah...it really has," shoulders raising, though the corner of her lip tugged upwards. "Guess I couldn’t stay invisible forever." Looking at Ayaz, she remembered he might be looking at a girl that no longer existed...but she did, deep down. Even if she tried to outrun her every day. "Felicity, uh, well, she said, or better yet, thought it’d be 'good for me' to show up. That usually means she wants to make sure I haven't gone off the deep end...but I'm breathing, and forcing a smile onto my face...sorry, info dump. I'm such a verbal clutz."
Which, thankfully she hadn't gone off the deep end...completely.
"How've you been? You look like you’re working. Or...y'know, trying not to." A small laugh slipped out. "It's good to see you..."
