[Log] Valentine's Gala, pt. 1

[theeternalmind]

WHO: OPENING CAMEO: Shane Fitzgerald and Venetia Martens, Christoph Schmidt, Meliadoul Tengille, Sync (as Fon Master Ion), Anise Tatlin, Maria Tegawa, Mercade Alexander, Radiant Dynamo of Invention (as a Dragon-Blooded), Rufus Shinra, C.C. (as "Marianne Kouzuki"), Cissnei, Kadaj, Ravikiran Srivastava, Talifah Arbani, Tierine Mayhew, Luke fon Fabre, Tepet Tilis Tirana, Agrias Oaks, Simon Parker, Guy Cecil, Squall Leonhart, Soma Cruz, Shanoa, closing cameo: Reno
WHEN: Friday, February 7
WHERE: Relief Society Community Center, the Hub
WHAT: The Relief Society throws a formal Valentine's gala the weekend before Valentine's.
WATCH FOR: Ravi gets hit on by a woman, Agrias and Meliadoul in dresses, Ravi not in a dress, Mercade still isn't wearing a tux, Mieu wearing a bowtie, Guy loses a bit of composure, a Guy-Triple-Luke man-pile (?!), Squall and Rufus' shortpose-off, /MERCADE/, god, a whole lot of stuff



Room Desc
The Relief Society Community Center's main banquet hall has been completely redecorated for the Valentine's Gala. Several volunteers are located right outside the hall on both sides offering coat and hat checks for individuals as well as taking their tickets and inspecting their clothing. Two large trolls are standing by, each of them wearing a bowtie to throw out those who violate the dress code by under-dressing. Within the hall itself is where the real decorating begins.

At the far end of the hall is a large raised dias. Many chairs and music stands have been arranged for the fifty man chamber orchestra and a banner hangs above and behind them. It is a tasteful banner displaying the words "Relief Society's Valentine's Ball" and in smaller text list both the IPA and ShinRa Electric as sponsers. Corinthian columns line up along the length of the hall in two even columns to split the room into three sections. The middle section has been cleared off for dancing while the two side sections are peppered with a generous number of small tables and chairs for guests to rest their feet but still watch the dancing.

The tables are covered with white tablecloths and each of them holds a small but tasteful table setting of fresh red roses, baby's breath and other like flowers. The chairs themselves have also been covered for the occassion and dressed with red ribbons. More streamers line the columns and fake vines have been wrapped around a few of them with silk roses artifully tucked away here and there.

Closer towards the door is a large bar manned by three bartenders to prepare drinks for all the guests. The bar is fully stocked with all the major mixers and alcohol along with some not quite so major ones as well and they are stocked with enough to get them through the night, even with the heaviest of drinkers. Meanwhile wait staff circulate the ballroom carrying trays of hors d'oeuvres that are as equality varietied as the kinds of drinks the bartenders can mix up.

Welcome to the Relief Society Valentine's Day Ball. A good number of people bought tickets and this has made the organization as a whole very happy. Hokuto Sumeragi was recruited to help make things move along more quickly and also for her superior orgnization skills but the group as a whole worked really hard to get this up and running without, hopefully, a hitch. Shane himself was stuck here all day getting the last of the details down before he realized what time it was and borrowed the community shower to quickly clean up and get dressed.

Of course, like any gentleman, he drove to pick up Venetia and pulled his Austin Healey out of the garage just for the event. It's not long before the pair arrived, hopefully ahead of others, at the Relief Center. His keys were tossed to a kid to park while he went around to open up the door and offer his arm to the blonde scion with a grin. "Ready ta work a bit more Venetia? This is it..."

He tips his hat a bit up his brow and once Venetia's settled, begins escorting her to the doors that lead into the community center where several signs have been placed to direct guests to the ballroom.

"Are you kidding?" Venetia says cheerfully, wearing a sexy evening blue strapless dress with a long slit up the left leg. The top glitters with silver, matching the belt around her waist and the tops of the opera gloves she wears, as well as her strappy silver shoes. It's a contrast to her short, golden hair, but a very attractive one. She takes Shane's arm, giving him a mischievous smile. "This is the part where all our work pays off! <3"
With an elegant sashay, Venetia walks together into the Relief Center with Shane, all but exuding delight and excitement. As she said, this is where they finally get to enjoy the fruits of their labor. Sure, there'll still be more work through the night, but Venetia hardly even views it as work.

Tierine Mayhew feels kind of lost. Or possibly just awkward; she's not exactly the sort of girl who attends fancy events on a regular basis. The dress feels weird on her; she hasn't worn anything like it in years.
Tierine is wearing a deep red dress of average materials, but a lot of tailoring went into it to let her actually put it on; the skirts are very short, mostly draping over her human hip and leaving most of the feathery, furry ruff bare. She actually looks decent when cleaned up and wearing a little bit of makeup. It looks like she even brushed out all her fur and neatened up the feathers on her wings. It's only ruined a little by the small purse that's been strapped over her leonine back to hang at her side, where she can reach it.
But she still feels awkward. Tierine is walking very carefully and fairly because she's worried about her talons scratching the floor. She got pasts the trolls - the dress was good enough for that - and now she's not entirely sure what she should do. Sure, she has a job, but she'd like to have a /bit/ of fun too...

Simon's stomach has been tying itself in knots for hours. The Seraph picked Agrias up from her hotel about fifteen minutes ago, and from there it was a brisk drive to the Community Center. All the while, Parker has /tried/ to engage his date in small-talk, but between his own nervousness and his being bound to the Truth... he hasn't gotten much of anywhere.
Simon's car pulls up in the drive in front of the building. He gets out, hands the keys over to the valet, and walks around to the passenger's side.
"Here. May I have your hand?" Simon queries, as he opens the car door and holds out his hand for Agrias to take. If she does, he leads her to the door and into the Community Center. If not... then he at least has the decency to hold the door for her.

It seems like plenty of people are here for the event, having heeded the signs or word on the streets and in the Hub. Even the reclusive Captain the Vanguard Detachment has made an appearance -- she arrives wearing a tasteful satin dress such a dark shade of blue it almost seems black. Its modest cut prevents anything of her back or neck from being seen, yet it still manages to do this elegantly enough. Though its sleeves are short, she wears velvet gloves, black, and her hair is done up nicely at the nape of her neck, bangs still left to either side of her face, instead of its usual herringbone braid. She seems to be wearing suitably formal black shoes, though the long hem of the dress makes it difficult to see them.
Agrias Oaks also arrives with Simon Parker.
...She doesn't seem to be too terribly thrilled about being here, either. She doesn't look /annoyed/, per se, but neither does she look like she's enjoying herself. Large formal gatherings like this remind her too much of Ivalice's air-headed nobility and their expensive, attention-grabbing galas.
Ostensibly, this is to maintain the Vanguard's good relations with the Relief Society, but... this sort of thing sure is something she could do without.
But, they've gotten here in one piece, she hasn't stabbed Simon for his incessant nervous chatter, and she even manages to look neutral as they walk into the ballroom, as opposed to mildly annoyed.
"By all means." Her response is quiet, possibly even lost in the crowd, but she does offer him one gloved hand. Not reluctantly, surprisingly. "I still remember this much from my days in the courts."
Hopefully there'll be traditional dancing, and not some kind of newfangled modern... /stuff/.

Now, when Luke had mentioned this dance to his mother, promptly she'd suggested bringing Natalia - but as the princess was currently otherwise occupied with things less frivolous than balls, he's been left on his own by way of choosing a date. Convenient given he'd already more or less asked Tirana to go. But there's a problem with telling mothers. They /arrange things/. And when they have the help of scheming servants, even more things get arranged.
Which means when Luke shows up to aquire a certain dragonblooded Exalt from Shane's home, they've actually got a car. It's a very nice car too, of the sort his mother found appropriate for such occassions (and a rental) and Luke sure as hell isn't driving it. That's Guy's job, primarily because Luke has no idea /how/ to drive, and the enterprising blond -had-. If it had been horses he could figure that out, but not offworld fontech.
And because he had been told It Is Appropriate, he's brought Tirana a little flower ... corsage thing. He didn't really know /what/ it was supposed to be called but Mother said it was a good idea and she always had good ideas. And it'll match her dress too, being a pleasant sunny yellow sort of flowery thing. The driving is left to Guy, so it won't take them long at all to get where they're going at least.

A major social event is a good enough reason to get out and about, right? There are connections to be made. Especially in the Hub, where it doesn't matter who knows what the Solar is. There is absolutely nothing anyone can do about her presence, as long as she herself behaves, after all~
Talifah arrives alone. Maybe this says something about her current social circle. Regardless, she appears as confident as ever as she strides in, her blue eyes scanning those who have already assembled. There's that Wyld-tainted girl, of course--Greed had asked her to attend, so no surprise there.
tShe's wearing a low cut long green gown, which accents her coloration nicely. It tries in back--around the neck and lower back, to be accurate--with ribbons. And while the skirt itself of the dress doesn't feature any daring cuts, it's clearly apparent that the noble's wearing some rather flattering high heels.

Guy did, in fact, learn to drive -- it was one of the first things he did in what free time he had upon reaching the Hub (what with that whole 'ON A SECRET MISSION' thing, and all). He's good at it! Enough to have a license to drive, that is. Just... don't ask him to engage in some kind of dramatic car chase, he'll get run right off the road. The vehicle glides to a halt at the curb, the passenger doors unlocking.
The noble-in-exile half-turns in his seat, leaning back to glance at Luke and his Exalt companion with an easy smile. "This is it. Please, you two go on ahead." A lever opens the curbside door; Guy Cecil brings a white-gloved hand up to touch the visor of his livery hat with a wink. "I'll find a place to park and catch up with you."

The situation back home had left Tirana mostly to her own devices in the days leading up to the dance. Namely that she didn't have anything exceptionally formal packed with her with which to wear. Certainly she could have bought a dress from one of the many stores in the Hub, but their prices were quite high and her stipend and agent salary wasn't. There was only one route left to go. And, really, what sort of bad Disney knock-off would she be if she couldn't sew up a dress of her own?
The door to the apartment opens to a beauty that sparkles like the sun, just not the Unconquered Sun. Tirana had wanted something a little more green, but this pattern was just too cute to pass up: A poofy yellow and green dress with multiple petticoats and lace and emeralds and hair bows and all the frills that makes a princess a Princess(tm). Certainly it wasn't Realm standard, but this wasn't a Realm function, was it?
"Oh! Oh my," the girl gasps in astonishment. She had met Luke in person just once before, and that was after his horrible horrible ordeal. Given a week of rest and clean-up and his mom putting him in his own kingdom's finest? "You are exceptionally handsome this evening, Luke! Oh! You even brought a flower too! And a car! And a chauffer!"
A CAR RIDE LATER...
Tirana steps daintily out of the car, with more than a little help from Luke. Maybe she shouldn't have overdone it on all the petticoats. She stops to wave to Guy on the inside, "We'll see you inside!", then turns to her quite handsome date, arm ready for the taking. "Are you ready?"

The first thing Simon does upon entering the ballroom is to escort Agrias over to the bar. He's let go of her hand, and trusts her to follow after him--it would be so embarassing if she got lost in the crowds or something. The Seraph leans against the bar, staring out at the masses of incomprehensible /people/ out there--
"Vodka with ice," he says to the bartender. "On the rocks" seems so woefully inaccurate and untruthful now. "And whiskey, no ice, for my date." Both drinks arrive in short order, and Simon just sits back and waits.
He wishes his stomach would stop trying to twist itself into new and interesting shapes.

There's no car for the Fon Master and his date, largely because there was no one available who could possibly drive one, and Anise insisted on not spending the money to rent one. 'Ion' was in a good enough mood to go along with this, what with one thing and another, and so when they arrive with the various other guests heading to the Valentine's Gala, they come by carriage. Pulled by lizards.
Don't ask. They don't... really... have proper horses in Auldrant.
Sync himself is dressed in his new Fon Master's robes. They're impressively fancy, mostly white with green and gold trim, and though his robes are long, they're slit up the leg to reveal crisp pants and boots. Those who've met Fon Master Ion before and see him again tonight might be surprised that Ion can actually look masculine.
He looks quite happy, too, and as their carriage comes to a halt outside, SyncIon turns to Anise. He hesitates, because he'd have to be in some serious denial to not admit he's nervous, but he smiles at her anyway. "Allow me," he says quietly, opening the carriage door, hopping down, and offering her his hand.
"And it doesn't matter if you're my Guardian," he adds almost teasingly, predicting her protests before she makes them. "Right now, we're just Ion and Anise. All right?"
Yes. Ion and Anise.

Speaking of presences...

Outside a nice silver Jaguar rolls up and stops at the curb, allowing a few people to step out before driving off. None of the people exiting the vehicle own it, in fact, it was a rental with a hired driver and all. Apparently someone is interested in going all out-but not going completely overboard. Maria Tegawa is not interested in arriving in a /limo/ of all things.

The woman steps in, sporting a lovely form-fitting blue, green, and golden dress made of the lacy pattern of peacock feathers. The edge of the dress stops just below the knees so she can show off a nice pair of stiletto-heel sandals. These kind have thin leather laces that crisscross up Maria's smooth calves. The dress is a halter top, arms completely bare and neck halfway covered by the silken material. Looping over her upper and lower arms is her white scarf, which somehow manages to look good even with this. The lawyer would never be without the Aegis after all. Part of her hair has been swept aside, the long 'handlebar' like bangs pinned back with a peacock-feather hairclip. A set of diamond earrings are pinned in her ears and she has most certainly opted to go in makeup.

She does not have the incredible divine beauty of Venetia, but you can damn well be sure she is going to try. "Well boys." The lawyer smiles, addressing her companions. "Let's have a nice evening, shall we?"

Even though she wears a dress every day, it isn't exactly what could be considered formal. More like... cute. And short enough to not hamper her movement when scampering around on Tokunaga! But today, Anise is in a long strapless dress. With her hair down. She barely even looks like herself!
Well, except she still has Tokunaga with her. Since this is a formal event, Tokunaga has been dressed up in a sharp black tuxedo and is clinging to Anise's back.
When the hand is offered, the girl takes it with a nod. "R.. right. Just Ion and Anise." Which is why she has her doll with her. Just in case. "I'm not really sure what to do here, Ion." Out of habit of being the Guardian, she turns around and closes the carriage door herself. "Besides just walking in. I never had time to practice dancing or anything! What if I step on your feet?"

For the most part, the Holy Knight is silent. This isn't the kind of thing she enjoys, and professionality is the only thing that's keeping her from leaving altogether, though she doesn't look inclined to stay for too long.
A brief nod is given at the vodka. Thanks. I need that.
She takes it, fingers curling around the glass, as she casts a brief glance out towards the gathering beyond. Let them have their bloody party. She would rather be doing somethign constructive and useful with her time; not strutting around some ballroom. She's as out of her element here as many of these people would be in Ivalice, or some similar world.
Agrias pauses her survey of the ballroom just long enough to take a drink, ignoring the burn of the alcohol. There are a few people she recognises, but nobody she feels like dealing with right away. Not here in this situation. The most she's expecting to do is suffer through a few dances, stay as far away from mingling as she can, and go home. That'll be enough to count a formal appearance, and she can wash her hands of the whole affair.
"I'll have a few dances," she states under her breath, to the Seraph, "and then I'm going home. I don't intend to stay here. Aye?" Golden eyes flick over to him, but she doesn't really give him time enough to get a word in edgewise. "There's no reason for my being here any longer than I need to be. I have more constructive ways I could be using my time."

Shane chuckles seeing everyone arrive and he grins as he welcomes people to the little Gala. If the scion is feeling weird or uncomfortable because of the suit, he's not showing it. Instead, he's looking rather impressed and when Maria arrives he swallows. Oh man.. he hopes this part is to her and ShinRa's liking. The scion then looks over at Venetia and turns in his hat to the coat check to slip into the ballroom herself.

Somewhere, Nia is roaming about with Simon on her arm and smoozing. He steps up to the dias as people begin to filter in and coughs, clearing his throat. "I'd like ta thank everyone fer showin' up tonight. This means a lot ta us. I know a lot o' yeh have been pretty busy and we here at the Relief Society hope that yeh can all take the night off and just have a bit o' fun."

Behind him, the orchestra begins to filter in onto the dias, having already tuned back stage. "We've got a good selection o' music, food and drink. Don't be afraid ta let yer hair down a little and dance. We'll keep this party goin' until the last person drops so stay as long as yeh like! And remember, troublemakers will be caught by hub security and tossed out!" The lights dim slightly and Shane turns to take the seat normally given to the First Violinist and raises a violin. The first note is played and the orchestra immediatly launches into the soft welcoming sounds of chamber music.

Luke has no problem with helping Tirana out of the car - that /is/ a whole lot of skirt and that much poof needed to be organized before it got stuck in the door or something and Guy drove off with it. At some point he'll explain is as much, if not moreso, a best friend than a servant, but at the moment making sure Tirana doesn't leave parts of her gown behind on accident is more important. "As ready as I'll ever be." And he's doing his best to not look apprehensive. No sir, all smiles here!
Guy left to parking means they don't have to linger outside, and a note is made to thank him for it later -- and then with alarm realize he'd forgotten something, which sets the young aristocrat to quickly babbling away briefly on his radio, but then, /then/, it's just a matter of taking Tirana's arm and heading inside. There's already plenty of people present, and he's absolutely certain he's spotted Ion and Anise somewhere in all of this, shorter than most of the other attendants. He decides suddenly that they're absolutely adorable together.
At least they make it inside for the beginning of Shane's announcements! "... I hope the type of dancing they're planning on doing isn't that awful 'modern' stuff they do in clubs," Luke murmurs, probably only for Tirana's ears. "That doesn't take any skill at all, it's just wiggling badly to music."

"It's okay; I've never learned how to dance formally either," Sync reassures her. He doesn't mind and barely notices that Anise shuts the carriage door herself. Why not, if he opened it? He merely pulls her along, not letting go of her hand, once the door is shut and the carriage moving away, waving to the driver.
"To be honest, I don't think I know what I'm doing in the slightest," he continues cheerfully. "I think you stepping on my feet would be the least of my problems. Besides, you're light; I'm sure it won't hurt even if you do."
A glance around, and Sync mimics what he sees other couples doing (his eyes widen when he sees Luke with a girl he's never seen before), and after he waves to the red-headed replica, the Faux Master offers Anise his arm. "Shall we?"

And now entering...is a rather impassive-looking blond man wearing a nicely-tailored tuxedo and looking, for once, completely clean-shaven. Christoph Schmidt decided to take an extra few passes on his chin to make sure that he was looking in top shape for today's little event. No stubble, no five o'clock shadow.
He looks oddly comfortable in the formalwear...or rather, he doesn't look the least bit uncomfortable, because he looks like he always does: stoically Teutonic. His bowtie is impeccably knotted, there is the flash of dark red from the rose pinned to his lapel, and a golden chain extends from his waist into the pocket of his trousers. Balmung, no doubt, rests inside. This may be a party, but he'd not leave that behind.
He looks about, then takes a step to his side and extends a hand backward, toward the young lady accompanying him. And he actually smiles. "Komm this way, Meliadoul," he says to his date. He is really very, very glad to have had the opportunity to make it out here today.

Regarding the matter of punctuality and social events, at least one adage said, 'If you are important, people will wait.' Such seems to have been the mentality adopted by the representative of the other sponsoring half of this evening's event. It's a good deal past the arrival time for most when a white, gold-trimmed limousine bearing the Shinra insignia on the hood ornament pulls up outside the the recreation center. Evidently at least -one- party was resolved not to skimp on any ostentation displays.
A powerfully built, dark-suited man in sunglasses and an earpiece steps out from the passenger's side to open one of the several doors and Rufus Shinra shall step out, presumably with both of his lovely companions for this night. The President himself has not dressed in a way anyone who knew of him wouldn't expect: An expensive-looking white tuxedo jacket with the Shinra company logo emblazoned on the right breast like a coat-of-arms overlays a silk black vest and white dress shirt, topped off with the perquisite black tie, not to mention matching trouser and expertly shined black shoes. He'll stride through the double doors with either companion on his side, wearing a confident smile that carries all the sense of bravado, privilege and power one might expect from a man of his position.
"Your best scotch on the rocks, if you please." He'll casually flag the bartender as he passes by, gesturing to the table that has been predictable section off from the others the head of area and marked 'Reserved for Shinra Company Guests'. He'll turn aside to each of the young women in his accompaniment, "Feel free to order anything you like, expense is no object, naturally." Truly, it hadn't been a bad idea at all for C.C. to take the initiative in organizing Shinra's involvement in this affair, the social, financial and PR benefits were all too apparent. Of course, it was only a suitable reward to have her partake in the fruits of that labor alongside. As for Cissnei, it was for Tseng's and his board's peace of mind to bring along some additional protection to any reasonably public event, and Dark Nation doesn't quite blend into such scenes. Her dedication to her job certainly deserved merit.
In lack of any suitable obstacles or detainments, the President and his entourage will make way for their seating.

Meliadoul, for her part, is looking rather nervous. Rare is the occassion to have her in a dress, even rarer is the occassion for her to wear anything resembling 'formal'. At least in the past few years. The knight arrives with her hand resting lightly upon Christoph's arm with her short hair uncovered and free of any sort of oranmentation. Her gown is a deep bottle green that falls modestly to her ankles. Not to many layers but slightly off the shoulder and revealing hardly any cleavage. It's a very modest cut and yet more daring than anything she's worn before this.

She glances about, her shoes flat heeled and frowns slightly. "Yes.." She murmurs quietly as Christoph escorts her into the dance hall. "I wonder if Simon and Oaks came," She is fairly nervous and though she has some confidence in her dancing skills, it's been a very long time since she's last done any sort of dancing that didn't involve a sword.

She's also wearing a dagger attached to a garter beneath her skirt. She's paranoid like that.

Maria's plenty divine enough for one passenger of the Jaguar, at least. Also disembarking from the car is one of her associates and well-known troublemaker/problem-solver, Mercade Alexander.
What people might be surprised at is the fact that he's actually wearing a suit. Not a tux, a suit. There's only two situations in which Mercade might wear a tux, and this is neither of them. At least it's a reasonably well-tailored suit of gray, along with a blue tie. No amount of commentary, however, has gotten Mercade to part with his fedora. At least this one matches the suit. He steps along, smiling, beside Maria Tegawa, surveying the room. He appears... Irrationally happy for some reason. "This is going to be a wonderful evening." Mercade replies, before grinning at Maria's other companion. A moment later, he's back to business. "So, Maria, can I get you anything to drink?"

THEN:
Passing through the Terminus led to a moment that Shanoa will not forget anytime soon. The familiar that seemed to just wait for her, holding an envelope addressed to her in it's jowls, running off as soon as it's task was complete. A ticket, foreign currency, and a letter explained his intentions, and asked that she please come along. They would even get to meet. Of course, she squinted dangerously-- not only did this mean she needed to find the place...
She would have to find a suitable dress.
Returning to the world she left behind under the guise of a traveller, to the remote hills of Wygol, Shanoa met with the eccentric teenage dressmaker once again. Put into an awkward position and thrusting money into her hands, she found something suitable and then fled before too many questions were asked.

NOW:
Crossing the street from outside, she circles around the back of the large 'mo-to-r vee-hick-els' and presents her ticket to the appropriate man at the door, and enters.
Shanoa's wearing a dress, of course, cut to near-floor length. Cut below the collarbone around the front and falling to just below the shoulderblades in the back, thin straps settle over the shoulders and cross at the back, arms clad in opera-length gloves. Her hair is left unbound, much as usual, and the tattoos on her shoulders remain exposed; the grand Glyph upon her back mostly covered. It seems she didn't give a lot of thought to footwear, as the toes of vaguely stylish, lower-cut boots than her norm occasionally poke out mid-stride.
Not much for a crowd, the last living member of Ecclesia quietly moves off to the side, her eyes as sharp as ever. Where...? Where is he?

"At least I'm not the only one!" Upon hearing that her ward is as clueless as she is, Anise relaxes somewhat. After all, she can't make a fool of herself without Sync doing so as well! ...wait, is that something to be thankful for? At least she won't be alone.
The greeting to the redhead catches Anise's attention, and she lifts a hand to wave as well. "Luuuuuuke~ I didn't know you would be here!" Her waving pauses suddenly, though, and she looks down at the offered arm. Then, slowly, she lowers her own arm and links it with his. "Um.. y.. yeah! Let's go have fun!"

Tierine Mayhew's tail lashes as she steps a little further in. Yup, still nervous. She thought she saw Shane, but when she looks twice, he's not there. Guess she was wrong.
Tierine meanders toward the bar, because she doesn't say no to anything like that. It takes her a good two minutes to decide what to get (it ends up being something small, red, and probably intensely alcoholic), and she spends part of it looking around. She sees Agrias and Simon, recognizes neither, and keeps looking - for someone, probably, but who?

Simon nods solemnly, if a little sadly, at Agrias' statement. He's not going to argue with her, but he's a little disappointed she's not... well, opening up to others, and to /him/. Nevertheless, Parker remains stoic, and drinks his vodka down, savoring the burn. He's going to need a lot more in him to deal with /this/, he thinks, sourly.
And then he spots a familiar face near the door. "Meliadoul and Christoph are here," he says to Agrias, smiling calmly. Then he raises a hand and waves to the couple, as if to say--we're over here!
Rufus and his entourage don't go unnoticed, of course. It's hard to miss something that ostentatious. Then, Tierine shows up, and Simon finds his eyes drawn to her--but then he catches himself staring, and looks down at the floor.

Now that she's been extricated from the car, Tirana has an opportunity to take a good look around at all the other girls attending. "I think I may have overdid it," she sheepishly admits to Luke. "Just a little." Then again, a slinkier dress would've made her curse that much more noticeable, and that would not be a good thing. The alarm over the Mieu in the glove box passes with a minimal amount of alarm, she's certain he wouldn't have put something in their if it wasn't terribly important!
Its with a blush that she accompanies Luke inside. All those years of dreaming of going to the ball with a handsome Dynast and, well, he's technically not a Dynast but Luke's still royalty! And handsome! And most definitely charming in his own very special way. Its at this point that she realizes that she should've also had brought a fan.
There's just one last matter before they enter. Tirana motions to one of the ushers outside the door and hands them a small package, about the shape of a wrapped set of clothes. "For a friend," she whispers before entering.
That half the Hub seems to have shown up for the party isn't doing her complexion any favors. So many faces, and quite a few she recognizes. "There's Simon, um, Angel Simon, over at the bar, and is that Lady Agrias with him?" Tirana cups a hand over her mouth, "Oh my~" Luke's fears are caught, and she gives him a reassuring pat on the arm, "Oh, I don't think you have to worry. I doubt they will be playing much modern music with a full-piece orchestra!" There's a momentary pause as she thinks of something that she should've asked earlier, "Just what is the current dancing fad in Auldrant?"

The young woman dutifully acompanies ShinRa's president as they make their exit from the car and make their entrance to the night's fesitivities. Currently posing as a "Marianne Kouzuki," C.C. wonders how many of her fellow Syndicate members will be present this eve. Her amber eyes scan the crowds from behind the pair of thin-framed glasses that perch on the bridge of her nose. Quite the turn out. She allows for a faint, if neutral smile as she absently brushes at the black locks that frame her face. "Of course." She nods at Rufus as they head towards their appointed table, smoothing out the skirts of her long ebony gown. She thinks a moment before requesting just a glass of wine to start, and takes her seat to resume observation for the time being.

Oh, there are many ways to get into such wonderful events. For instance, taking a ticket from an unsuspecting passerby on the trip over to the Hub. A good, clean 'mishap' - blood doesn't look good on a nice, well-worn formal jacket, after all.
This is why Rufus is one agent short tonight.
Sure, the ball is something a Remnant would never really go to, but this...this is an exception. Silver hair falls over one eye as he sits there at the "RESERVED" table, fingers tapping against the back of one of the empty chairs as a foot takes up another seat, his posture laid back. Cool, green eyes stare vacantly at the crowd, surveying the area for any...'special' people. And it seems he's spotted his pr-er, 'special friends.'
Why, hello there, Luke and Tirana.
Of course, with the arrival of Rufus and the rest of his posse, Kadaj lifts his head.
And smiles pleasantly. "Oh, hello." Pause. "This seat taken?"

Ravi had done as he'd originally offered-- helped Maria style her hair, give a few pointers on makeup specific to her choice of dress, and then well before /MERCADE/ was meant to appear he had taken his leave and returned home. He'd made no mention of what he was wearing, and considering how many fancy dresses he'd purchased when they were out shopping, it's easy to assume he'd appear in one of them. He'd declined Maria's offer of a ride, however-- perhaps to avoide /MERCADE/, or perhaps for other reasons. But while the former is certainly a viable excuse, the truth was different, though no less irritating.
Ravi is, after all, a bright fellow.
And knowing full well that Maria's arrival at the gala would be televised and photographed by many major news sources in the Hub and quite possibly other worlds, he'd elected to be nowhere /near/ her at that time. Normally he might not have cared so much.
Normally, he isn't wearing male clothing in public, either.
Clad in an embroidered dark grey, almost black sherwani that reaches mid-calf, the British-Indian man steps out of the cab he'd taken to the community center. He adjusts the silvery scarf that drapes over one shoulder, the other end falling over his forearm, and then, after paying the cabbie and adopting an expression and posture of the utmost reluctance, he proceeds towards the entrance, pace hurried only by the cold air.
Upon entering the room proper he immediately looks for cameras and video crews, Maria and Mercade, familiar faces, and then a secluded corner, in that order. The cameras are avoided, Maria and Mercade's locations are noted, Simon's presence is noted by the bar, as is Tirana's alongside that redhaired boy... Beyond that, however, there are none he recognizes.
He /knows/ Shane is here, but he didn't tell the younger man he'd be here, either.
There is a spot not all that far from the bar, however, that seems to be out of the line of traffic and not well lit. This is where he proceeds to, eyes on the floor, attempting to appear as unobrusively non-present as he possibly can.

Ahh, and there is that boy--Shane--that Greed had wanted dead so badly a while ago, addressing the crowd. Of course, the Don had since rescinded the death warrant, so Talifah had no futher interest in him... aside for potential personal reasons.
So he has musical talent, too. Hmm.
For now the noblewoman slinks towards the bar, intent on observing the guests who arrive. It seems that several are still coming, aren't they? At any rate, she'll try and strike up conversation with some of the more promising-looking guests later. Well, they say the best business deals are made at parties!
Why hello there Tierine. Her gaze slides over at the chimera, who is rather close at hand, but Talifah says nothing to her. At least, not until she's gotten a glass of wine in hand. Not her favorite, but it'll do. "Are you enjoying yourself?" she asks Tierine, after sampling a little of her glass. "...Or would you have preferred someone," and here she indicate with a turn of her head towards the man in the first violin seat, "To have taken you with them?" She's smiling, but it's not exactly the nicest smile.

Perhaps it's only as a Turk can you be killing zombies one day, covering up a conspiracy on another, and then attend a party in another. The only problem for Cissnei is that she'd been well trained to perform well in two out of three of those situations. Not to say she wasn't going to try her best, you could bet the last day has been spent reading books and surfing the internet for every possible thing she may need to know (She never had a prom, you know.) such as dances, popular female drinks, things like that.

The most fun part was getting a dress, she arrives in a full-length black-at-top and navy-blue-at-bottom single-shoulder dress, with dark, ribbon-ankle shoes. Only a bit of jewelry, necklace and earrings, and most importantly a slightly awkard smile upon her painted lips.

Really, it's one thing to arrive at a party with one person but what was this -C.C.- deal? This completely threw off all of her studies but there was a plus. If 'Electric Slide' were to play, she would be the star of the show; has it down to a t she does. As for the drink; the first example of study having paid off, "A Zima, please."

The dress is modest, but it is a very nice dress, and Christoph is quite appreciative of it. Meliadoul is, after all, usually encased in some pretty solid armor with a cloak around it all to boot. His smile is meant to be reassuring as well as simply expressing how he feels about coming here with her tonight. He crooks his arm in a traditional manner for her to take, and now begins to walk forward into the ballroom with her.
"Was a little surprised to hear that they are coming together," he admits to Meliadoul quietly. "But, ah...things change, ja?" Lots of things change indeed. At least Simon's not a demon anymore, right?
And it is at that point that he notices someone motioning toward them from the corner of his eye. "There," he says, chuckling for a moment. He also catches glimpses of a number of their colleagues, but there will be time enough later to speak with them as well. For now, he leads the way over to Meliadoul's old friend and his own drinking buddy. "Abend, Herr Parker," he says, once he is close enough to be heard. "Und Captain Oaks."
Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, a slightly harried looking young woman in a deep purple dress with two wings is scrambling to make sure all the hors d'oeuvres are getting out onto the tables in time. "No, Necro, you are not allowed to hurt the chef to make him go faster!"

Agrias misses most of the new arrivals, mostly through virtue of looking at the back wall of the bar, standing against the countertop. Her partner's pouting also goes unnoticed, because she doesn't have the patience to deal with that tonight, either. One thing at a time -- it's enough that she's even here at all.
...Though if she has her way, that won't be for very long.
He shouldn't be expecting any miracles. She's set in her ways, and as far as she's concerned, she doesn't /need/ anyone else. Things are done much more easily when you're not dependent on an oft-unreliable social network.
"Good," she states flatly, knocking back more of her whiskey. Beyond that, she doesn't comment much, or bother to look. Meliadoul's also going to give her a hard time for wearing something so formal, or feminine, no doubt.
She's not really in the mood for it, today.
"Then flag them over. I've no desire to wade into the crowd to see them." Christoph works great as a human snowplow. She pauses long enough for another sip of whiskey, setting the glass down and turning to face Christoph and Meliadoul. She also waves, though it's a bit more lackluster. "Doubtless they've just as few people to meet here as we do."
Oh, look at that. Mel's in a dress, too, but she won't make an issue of it. She's too irritated at being here at all -- she'll harass Mel about it later...
...when she's least expecting it.
"Hello, Master Sergeant." Christoph earns a nod. Agrias doesn't look pleased at being there at all, but not so much nervous as Meliadoul, as simply an air of vague annoyance about her; a little frostier than usual. "I hope the evening finds both of you well."

As Sync and Anise head into the gala, the green-haired replica glances around, keeping an eye open for other people he knows. He's not surprised at all to see Maria--she's quite beautiful, actually!--but he *is* mildly surprised that her companion seems to be... Mercade Alexander. Aside from those two, though, Sync doesn't recognize anyone offhand aside from Luke. This is largely because Guy is still off parking the car.
"Do you want to get a drink first, Anise, or would you mind if we go over to say hello to Luke?" 'Ion' asks his Guardian, glancing down at her once they're inside. "I don't recognize the girl he's with, and I'm curious about who his friend is." His friend? Sync considers this choice of vocabulary, then adds, watching Anise carefully, "I mean, his date."

"What?" Meliadoul blinks. "She's here with Parker?" The knight tips her head slightly, "I had not heard of this." But would Agrias have told her anyway? The knight frowns slightly and shakes her head. The lawyer had not been the same since he was undemonfied and she's not sure what to make of it.

She too inclines her head at several of her collegues, through a few people she does not know are given an odd glance before she's led towards the other two Vanguard members. Agrias's dress is also noted and an eyebrow arched. Well, there -was- that no cross dressing rule and it puts her in as awkward a position as the other knight.

"Agrias," She greets quietly, civilly, "I was not expecting you to come. I know you do not take pleasure in social functions such as these." And then her attention is on Simon, "And a good evening to you Parker." She looks between the two, eyebrow arched, "Are you here together?"

Tierine Mayhew knows she's being looked at by Simon and people like him. She tries to ignore it, although she goes a little red in the face (and it's not the booze that does that to her).
And then someone shows up who she was neither expecting nor hoping to see. Tierine startles when addressed by Talifah, starts to respond, looks at the first violinist -
Oh, Shane /was/ there. Tierine's slightly red face goes a little redder, but she responds, looking a little agitated, "What's it to you? I came because I wanted to go; there's nothing wrong with that."
She pauses before adding, "I don't see the other person you like to hang around with, either. He didn't feel like bringing you?"

"Hello, Master Sergeant," Simon says with a smile. It's good to see familiar faces around--is that Maria in a dress, over there, and... wait, is that /Ravi/?--Simon looks vaguely confused at the latter turn of events, but reasons it must be due to the strict rules for the dinner.
Sigh. Humans and their silly customs.
Simon takes another drink as the bartender returns his shotglass to him. "What would you like to drink?" he asks, "I'll pay for it, if you don't mind." He's already picking up Agrias' tab, whether she wants him to or not. He had that much knocked into his head during the 'how to be an American male' courses back in Hell.
A long pause, before he answers Agrias' question. "Yes, we are."

"I don't think so. Nobility's held to a higher standard of dress than normal people. They can wear things a little more casual but we have to be more careful." Luke considers it a matter of course, and doesn't think Tirana's overdressed at all. He didn't think he was either, though he seems to be the only one bothering with things like cufflinks. "They don't have quite as many people in their households to complain about the 'terrible shame of ill-dressed ungrateful children.'" He's /had/ that lecture. More than once.
Poor Tirana still thinks Luke's charming. He'll teach her otherwise sooner or later, but he -is- trying to be on his best behavior right now. "--Captain Oaks is in a /dress/?" Simon-the-Angel-or-Demon wasn't much of a concern, he was probably supposed to know how to dress for these things but he'd half expected to see Agrias in a full suit of ornamental armor. Kadaj, a friend of Tirana's - right?! - isn't really spotted in favor of hunting other faces he knows. "I'm not sure, I don't usually go dancing, but last I heard they were really fond of Malkuth's cross-step waltz, but I don't know if they still are." It was considered 'exotic and feisty' to jack another nation's dances.
Luke wasn't sure he agreed. He finds a table properly reserved for himself, Guy and Tirana (and is pleased they remembered a small dish in case Mieu floated along as well), and tugs Tirana in that direction so at least they'll have their bearings for where they 'should be' before hassling other people here. "I'll bet you someone will try modern music in spite of an orchestra though. If they do those dances can just be sat out, right?" They're not oblidged to keep up are they?!

The Holy Knight only takes another sip of whiskey in response to Meliadoul's question. That she's drinking something that hard at all ought to say something; normally, her preferred drink is wine.
"I'm glad you're set on being civil, for once," is her quiet greeting to her friend. The barest trace of amusement keeps it from sounding too accusatory. "I'm only here because I'm like to be expected here, as Captain. Believe me," she adds, "I enjoy this function -- nor this dress code -- than you do."
}Another sip of whiskey. "I couldn't come alone, could I?" she elabourates. "Bad enough they enforce the dress code."
She glances back towards the bar where her face is mostly hidden, scowling briefly. "Will they stop /staring/, out there?" she hisses, irritably. "Bad enough I'm even here at all. I have better things to do with my time. This reminds me too much of the courts and their extravagant waste. I only intend on staying briefly," she adds, to Meliadoul. "I'll be back at my suite after that, and if you want to stop by, I'll have the bottle of red out."
/That's/ her idea of a good time, thank you. A quiet drink at home, predominantly alone. Not this... silliness. "I admit, though, I didn't expect you to be here at all."

"That is what I heard, ja." The smile still hasn't gone away. Christoph is genuinely enjoying himself, and there isn't alcohol (yet) or a criminal getting pasted across the landscape. And not a single Belkan curseword either. He is almost...cheerful. "Have not been to something like this in a while," he says to Agrias, apparently missing her irritation completely. "Am glad to be hier. You look very nice, Hauptmann," he finishes, with complete apparent sincerity. He does, at least, glance over at Meliadoul when she mentions that Agrias usually doesn't care for this sort of function.
"Hmm? Ach, danke sehr," he says to Simon. He looks over at the bar, is about to order, then hesitates a moment. "I will have," he says, now sounding almost uncertain--the smile has slipped from his face for a moment--"a...scotch whiskey? That is what it is called?" Looks like he's deciding to branch out a little bit. Belkans are known for their beer and various fruit brandies, the sort of which peels a paint factory. The whole factory. But other liquors.... Hey, why not, it's on the house tonight.
He glances around a little further; seeing Simon half-boggle at someone else draws his attention, though he just finds a dark-skinned man he's not previously encountered before. "Something about him?" he asks, indicating Ravi.

Ravi glances up, managing to meet Simon Parker's gaze the moment he looks over. Dark skin darkens further, cheeks flushing imperceptably as he offers the other man a brief, curt nod before averting his gaze. He doesn't recognize Christoph. It's too bad he isn't a drinker or he might wish for something to calm his nerves. As it stands, he'd probably end up just falling asleep at a table and that would let the /photographers/ get at him.
Dark eyes scan the crowd every now and then, the Brit seeking out familiar faces, but more often than not getting stuck on ones that are simply interesting. He finds his attention continually drawn back to the bar, though, at the... creature there. No, it's a girl, a.. female creature? The truth is, aside from the horrible monstrosities he witnessed Caim dismembering, he's not actually /seen/ many sentient beings that aren't human (or human enough to pass). The woman at her side is interesting as well-- pretty, and Ravi feels a momentary surge of jealousy. This would have been slightly more bearable had he been able to wear what he wanted.
No, that isn't true, he /had/ obtained permission, but... well.

The car was parked, a gleeful Mieu freed from the glove compartment (who had thought the trip was the most delightful and interesting experience -ever-, much to Guy's chagrin), livery coat and hat exchanged for a tailed jacket -- and then the pair were off to the gala. It was a simple matter to slip in after a small crowd filed into the doors, pass in his own ticket and then set out to locating Tirana and Luke. It's excusable if he spends that time people-watching, as well, right? Right!
Even if the small, nauseatingly cute blue-and-white Mieu floating by his shoulder interrupts Guy's visual search of the event by exclaiming that he's found his Master, before flying off towards Luke.
Mieu can't actually fit in any formal clothes, but someone's gone ahead and affixed a tiny bowtie to him. Admittedly, it's really adorable.
Guy arrives shortly after, at a far more relaxed pace. "Would either of you like something to drink?"

Throughout the day with the proceeding preparations and hair and the like, Maria was thouroughly reminded that Ravi was not very fond of Mercade at all. At one point she was in the same position. When she first started out with the IPA, she felt that way about a /lot/ of people. Nowdays...well, she has warmed up. A little.

She can't help but be a tad disappointed. She had hoped to get Mercade in a tuxedo. At least he deigned to dress up, however Maria wouldn't be above kicking her own 'date' out if it came down to it. Ignoring Mercade for a moment, she gives her surroundings an appraising glance. Nice. Very nice, and not too gaudy. "Mmmm." her sweeping gaze catches on Shane for a moment and the poor demigod gets a penatrating stare before she looks away.

Eventually she does spot Ravi and blinks owlishly. It takes her a fraction of a second longer to recognize him, dressed as he is. He looks very...nice. No wonder he insisted that he not arrive with her companion for the night. It wasn't /just/ that she was with Mercade, but that he chose to put himself in a significantly more uncomfortable position.

Being the IPA leader, she does recognize a significant number of people here-and then some, such as 'Ion'. "Yes, Mercade, would you see what sorts of red wines they have on hand? Something red and dry would be nice."

Sometimes, you can't get out of assignments, no matter how hard you try. You can try claiming training. Or needing to issue a report to a client. Or perhaps try to get yourself killed by a T-Rexaur. But sometimes the person in charge will go 'Go on, represent the organization.' And then you're stuck there. Sometimes, they even say Bring a date if you want!'.
Squall Leonhart had not brought a date. What Squall Leonhart had done was snuck in early in the evening, gotten a drink that would be able to last him the evening, and then carefully started toeing that line between wallflower and just plain antisocial. To be fair, he'd had the chance to practice that act.
At least he's dressed for the occaision. Damned dress uniform and the fact that it's acceptable at black tie events, or he might have gotten out that way. ...Or have been forced to get a tux.

He's explaining about nobility to her. Quite cute, but still sort of redudant. "It is similiar back in the Realm," Tirana nods along to Luke's explanation. "Though our more formal gatherings back home there is less dancing and more, um, alcohol consumption and other activities." She coughs politely, "I have to yet build up the, um, tolernace for attending gatherings with my fellow Dynasts."
They're now at the table, and the young Dragon-blooded carefully sets herself on her chair. "I don't think we should have much of a problem," she says with a gesture towards the orchestra. "Shane is up there, and it appears that he is leading the show. I have heard some of his music, it is quite, um," oh how to describe it, "'Irish'." That'll do. "And isn't Lady Agrias quite beautiful tonight? I would not remind her of it, though, she does tend to be quite martial." A newcomer joins the table, and she cheerfully waves to Mr. Chauffeur. "Oh! I'll have-"
Blink. Blink blink. Someone just caught sight of the SHINRA table. "Kadaj!?" Hold the ice.

So they are... and this right from the horses mouth. Meliadoul suppresses a look of amusement, if only because that would be rude. She and Agrias will be sure to laugh about this later over the red. "It is not.. quite as bad as the court functions," she admits. "If that were true, Ser Orlandeu would be here in his court finery now wouldn't he?" She does smile slightly, "But if it makes it easier on you, I believe there was mention of money being given to a charity.."

She shrugs then and follows Agrias's glance behind her. "Press. They follow those with power anywhere." She makes a distasteful expression at the mention of them and their cameras. "But I do not believe there is anything you can do about that. But I may take you up on your offer on the red later."

When Agrias admits her surprise, the knight mentally recoils. "Wine please. Red," she says to the bartender before answering Agrias's question. A faint blush comes to her cheeks. "I was asked, if you must know, by Christoph to attend."

So far everything seemed according to plan, though President of Shinra was idly wondering if Reno had been able to get into position in time or not. Even if he hadn't, they should still able make do; With many influential denizens of the hub gathering here the evening also presented and excellent opportunity for networking and information gathering. The affable mask of the socialite fully in display, lively blue eyes casually survey the room for familiar faces. Some he's seen in news reports, IPA records and his own method of surveillance. Others he's had the opportunity to meet personally. Meliadoul and Maria will receive pleasant smiles and a vaguely conspiratorial wink, should their eyes meet. He'll also get a passing glance at Shanoa, but makes no similar effort to gain attention. "To your left, Cissnei." He'll lean into here ear and whisper in a smiling way that looks as if he were sharing some untold joke, "We have seen that woman before."

Still, he won't stop for any chatter at the moment, making his way to their table where a most unexpected (And unwelcome) surprises awaits.
Honestly, can't -any- of these people stay dead?
"Kadaj..." Rufus' familiar smile does not fade from his face, seems to show no visible sign of perturbment beyond a slight break in his natural rhythm, hesitating at first to take a seat, "..Reports of your demise were greatly exaggerated, it seems. But then, that seems to be going around these days.." Whether his calm resolves from the fact that he no longer possesses any geostigma for the remnant to coerce him with, that he cannot do any violence to them in the hub or his own preternatural aversion to much of any extreme emotion..anyone can say. He does at least write most of his plans for the night off, seeing that handling this will be taking most of his attention. He brushes Cissnei's thigh slightly, not touching her so much as prodding the gun he knows she's hidden in her garter. The message is a simple one: Be on guard.
"So that was why Agent Vinder never joined us." He declares casually, not finding Kadaj's presence all that difficult deduce, "A pity, he was a talented officer." Grabbing his drink from the waiter's tray, he'll take a sip in recognition of the fallen employee, "The company will pay for a lovely funeral services."

This is... strange. Really strange. Sure, Anise has glomped onto Luke's arm before, plenty of times. But she's never been -led- like this, so formally. It's just not something she's used to! Despite being the Guardian for perhaps the most important person on all of Auldrant, Anise is surprisingly informal in just about everything.
"Looks like they're going to get drinks too so.. let's go do that!" Besides, she's curious how much Luke's mother had to pay this girl to let him take her out. Or maybe he used his evil charming wiles to... no. No, has to be money. That's what first attracted Anise to him, after all!
After getting something non-alcoholic (she's still a minor, you know!) Anise tries to lead Sync over toward the other table. "Luuuke!" When the pair gets closer, Anise... hesitates. Her initial impulse is to run over and latch onto him, except that might not be such a good idea. First off, Luke has a date. And second, she doesn't want to cmopletely abandon 'Ion' especially when they have their arms linked like they do! "...Guy! You're here too? Do you have a date?" Then she notices the cheagle's tie and giggles. "Even Mieu dressed up~"

"That is Ravikiran Srivastava," Simon says, dragging the name out just in case Christoph isn't familiar with the diminutive. "Normally he dresses in women's clothing. I'm surprised to see him dressed as a man." That is said with total honesty, and Simon is utterly unashamed of it. Besides, it's obvious to anyone who's actually /met/ Ravi!
Simon reaches out and pats Agrias on the shoulder. "Stay as long as you like," the Seraph murmurs. "I wouldn't want to keep you if you feel uncomfortable." Even though he himself is entertaining visions of whirling across the floor with Agrias, graceful as ever, while everyone else watches in awe.
Simon then smiles gently at Meliadoul. "This is the first time I've attended a social function since my Redemption," the Seraph admits. "I must work carefully to sort out the Truth from common exaggerations and falsehoods and metaphor. There's just so /much/ of it..."
Something seems to strike Parker, and he winces for a moment before knocking back yet another shot of vodka.

The less recognization, the better. Kadaj knows it won't last too long, but-
Oh hey, there it is.
"He nods back at the SHINRA president, smirking. "Oh don't worry, he's taking a break." A very long break. "I'm sure he'll turn up in time for all of that. He was a good man." If he had a drink, he'd raise it in honor of the agent. The silver head tilts back a few degrees as his mako gaze stays on the entourage. "Please. I'm flattered you've even heard about it at all. But tonight, let's forget and...enjoy."
And suddenly, the Remnant's ears perk as his eyes widen. That voice. It confirms it. Who else wears pretty pretty dresses and sounds so musical? Ugh, it's annoying but that's the person he's looking for. Kadaj immediately sits up. "That's Triple!" he chimes, the smile growing wider.

The smile returns in full force as Meliadoul mentions that Christoph is the reason she is here tonight. "Am a very fortunate man tonight," he says, nodding quietly. Though there may have been a momentary faltering as she also mentions the possibility of Cid Orlandeau in full court regalia. Tights like that on a man have got to ride up really uncomfortably. Ugh.
To Simon, the Belkan blinks a few times. "...ach, Herr Srivastava. On the radio, I remember. Have not seen him yet." Then a pause. "Women's...clothing...?" he asks, in a measured, even voice. His eyes track back to the Indian man for a few more moments. "Ach," he repeats. But he does nod at the man, just in case he's looking over this way. Doesn't hurt to be polite.
With a quick shake of the head, he turns back to retrieve his glass of scotch, peering curiously at the ice cube nestled within and takes a careful sip. A thoughtful look, and then he says, "Different." Sip. He glances over at Simon patting Agrias on the shoulder, and thinks: how times have changed indeed. "Everything is all right after...your change?" he asks Simon, quietly.

The orchestra begins to strike up a slow waltz.

Tierine's reaction is is met with a smug smirk. She's hit a nerve, she's certain, and she's revelling in that. Talifah nearly chokes on her wine, though, when the chimera brings up a certain Lunar. Setting her glass down on the bartop and turning to face the younger woman, she wrinkles her nose as if she's been insulted. "And why would I /want/ to attend an event such as this with that man?" she huffs, tossing her head.
It's a shame the noble /is/ here alone though.
There's not much point in spending her whole evening harassing Tierine, even if it is fun. It doesn't exactly accomplish anything important. So, reclaiming her wineglass, Talifah heads off across the ballroom floor.
She spots that little Dragon-Blooded girl and her date for the evening, a young man with red hair. Another Dynast? Or perhaps not. Well, there's one way to find out, and this is /very/ neutral territory. Gliding up towards Luke and Tirana, the Solar says, "Good evening."

C.C. watches as the pale-haired young man makes his approach towards their table, brow arching finely as it becomes apparent that Kadaj is intent on their table. Ah yes, she knows this one. 'Marianne' says nothing as she turns her attention to the server that brings her the previously requested glass of wine, that of which she accepts with a nod of thanks, taking a sip as she looks back to those at her table.
She's already identified quite a few familiar faces, and for her best interests, she hopes that she isn't recognized in turn. Another sip is taken of her drink while she listens to Rufus and Kadaj engage in conversation. Ah, so that's how things happened. Her eyes turn back towards the Remnant as his attention is caught by yet someone else.