[A large tent has been errected upon the front lawn of the gingerbread cabin. In the evening's dark, it glows with light -- yellows, reds, blues, greens. Ballroom music spills into the air. Some may have received invitations, others may have simply wandered past. Those curious enough to peek inside are greated with a winter fete! Tables of white,
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Jack.
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...whatever you say, camp.
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[trying to get a look at himself :|a]
It's not bad. I think.
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[Yes her outfit has changed, but arbitrary costumes are not so strange in the world of CLAMP]
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Good evening, my lady. I'm pleased you enjoy it.
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I've never been to such a nice party. It's like a dream.
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[offers her his arm]
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... A party?
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Thank you. You arranged for this?
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