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She saw those looks, Candace. Stormy only gave a mysterious smile and a squeeze before letting go. "We were at the casino with our fake IDs," she lied as a matter of factly. "I told Gale if he got enough money he owed me something for being so nice to him, so~" She flashed the bracelet with the three charms--the crown, bear, and dog-- proudly. "How have you been, Miss Candace?"

She heard her name being called and turned to see Dorian waving her over. "Oh! Oh, hold on, I'll be right there. One sec, Miss Candace."

Stormy danced over and passed him her number, patting his head in a friendly manner. "Text me whenever, okay?"

Aaaand back to Gale and Candace. She was all over the place today! "So how d'you like the ship?"

Maebe was clever enough to tell that Lucky's attention was torn, and she too gave Mimsy and Kostya a quick look, misinterpreting the situation wildly. So that was what he was running away from. If she had the guts to, she'd explain that she understood, but instead, she just played along. If he needed to get his mind off things for a minute, she'd help. Because she did, too.

"Did it burn? That much bleach." She rubbed his scalp with her fingertips. "Someone told me once that they tried to bleach their hair as white-yellow as mine, and they were crying. It was pretty funny, actually."

She plucked at her dress fondly. "Blue's ace. But green matches your eyes. You should try a mix of both? That would look pretty decent."

The topic was light, and easy, and made Maebe feel a lot better. The change was visible in her expression.

"And I don't mean mixing the colors together, I mean blue stripes and green stripes. Mix them together and you get brown, and then I laugh at you." Ahh, and there she was again.

Clerise couldn't withhold a giggle as Clarice's foot slid up her leg. "Did you know?" she asked, wetting her lips ever so slightly. The waiter wandered off with their order--still blushing, truth be told-- and the world was a flurry of noise and colours around them.

She hadn't gone to prom because she'd dropped out her sophomore year, but she imagined this was a lot like it would have been. Fancy dresses, some drama she could watch, being in the presence of people she hated...Fancy dinner.

But she'd not expected to be in the presence of such a wonderful woman, there as her date. Hers. Not as a possession or a keepsake, but a precious companion. An equal. Clarice made her want to better herself in any way possible.

Her heart thumped as Clarice confided that she had fought Mark for the honeymoon suite. Clerise reached out with hands-- nails painted the same cherry red as her lips-- and wordlessly agreed with a series of shorthand eyebrow messages.

"Makes me want to ditch dinner," Clerise confessed, sliding her foot up Clarice's leg, and up-- "I quite literally couldn't get better company anywhere." She was a simple girl: she loved a lot, and loved hard, and put all her eggs into one basket. She was okay with that, because Clarice didn't mind. This wonderful woman understood-- implicitly and explicitly alike-- that the redhead's devotion stretched across all bounds, across the void, across time.

Otto's meal arrived, and he almost felt it looked way too fancy to eat.

In fact...

Otto looked from side to side.

Was... this REAL food? Or decorative? He was supposed to eat it, right?

The wine and starter arrived as Clarice contemplated the merits of ditching dinner and just picking something up one the way to their room. Eyeing the food, she leaned back, foot sliding higher as she plucked a particularly plump prawn off her plate. Giving Clerise a hooded look, she delicately sucked the juice off it's tender pink flesh. "You'll need the energy later, Red."

"I tried to talk some sense into him at one point," Sasha leaned back in her seat to allow the waiter to place her first course before her, "but sometimes I am not so certain that he wishes to be helped. Une cause perdue -- a lost cause, perhaps."

Jerry must have had quite a bit to drink to be so drunk. Sasha had had a few sips of a mild wine, and she felt no effects. She shrugged her slender shoulders before reaching for her utensil.

"At least he is dressed nicely, and with a nice haircut. I do not know what to do at this point. Perhaps you would talk to him?

If Lucky was going to say something else, the sudden arrival of a pack of waiters had distracted him from it.

He looked particularly queasy at the sight of the red soup.

"Ah," he commented hesitantly to anyone who would listen, just loud enough to be heard over the clinking of dishes. "Did ve ever learn vhat happen to the dead man on the promenade?"

He certainly hadn't. And if they didn't know the why or the how... then what stopped it from happening again?

He played with one of the myraid pieces of cutlery in front of him. "I for one am still curious to know of the curse."