Who: Halloweenies (that's you).
What: A fabulous masquerade ball.
When: Monday, October 31st (that's Halloween). The deep, dark hours of the night (that's like eight PM onward).
Where: The Stadium.
Warnings: ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN ON HALLOWEEN
(
It was a dark and stormy night… )
"I do apologise..." said Riley as he recovered from his temporary loss of balance. "Normally I am more graceful than this but, ah, I am not used to such unwieldy costumes."
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But he had no punch. In fact, he was holding nothing, and his pirate sword was sheathed, mostly because he was pretty sure if he pulled it out, he'd be escorted away. And then Ai would hear about it. And then she'd frown at him and...
No. That just couldn't happen either.
So he simply stared at Riley, unsure exactly of who he was just yet. He didn't get the costuming business. It really wasn't his scene or his style, so he shook his head, lifted a hand, and waved dismissively.
That was his way of saying it was fine, apparently.
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Riley decided that he would be helpful tonight. While it was a night of illusions, who was there to say that there weren't any poor souls that needed some direction? After all it wasn't for everyone. But he also like the idea of some mystery to the evening, so he wasn't cheating and using his aura to identify people.
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So he tipped his head thoughtfully and finally shook it. No. He wasn't so much lost as it was that masquerades simply weren't his style. In fact, most things weren't his style and he was coming to discover this more and more. The academy wasn't his style. The people in it weren't his style. Piloting planes definitely wasn't his style. Most things weren't his style.
Finally, unsure if Riley was lost himself, Caim pointed in the direction of the punch table. And if he was wrong, then the prince assumed he could simply point in any random direction. Perhaps the responses would be amusing. But likely not.
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