Welcome to Gaia! ::

Shaheen had not arrived late. She had arrived exactly when she had wanted to. It had nothing to do with the fact that she had actually put an effort into doing herself up for this night at prom, her hair extra full of curls that were pushed out from her hood and bounced around her face, her lips shining with a soft, neutral lipstick, her cheekbones lightly bronzed and glowing, her eyelashes full and dark, her fingernails long and painted. It had nothing to do with that at all. She was a woman of war, and she certainly did not lack in skill at doing anything, including the art of making herself look pretty.

She had simply wanted to not appear overeager, that was all.

When the war chieftain finally did arrive on the scene, she walked into the large tent like she owned the place, her heels adding some extra inches to her height so that she could look down on everyone more than usual. She strode into the very open yet slightly crowded area with it's jabbering students and few horsemen scattered about with the long lower skirt of her dress flaring behind her, revealing long and darkly tanned legs that took her straight out onto the dance floor, wings flaring behind her to push anybody who might be in her way, quickly out of it.

She glanced to the side, towards the booth where the music was said to be played from, hearing the words "request", and making her way towards it. The boy who appeared to be running it had a glorious set of wings of his own, and she eyed them up appraisingly for a silent moment with approval, before her golden eyes flitted down towards the music list.

"This." She said, her voice practically a purr as she pointed to her selection on the list, her choice seeming oddly appropriate before she turned and crossed her arms, waiting for her date to catch up and dance with her damnit.

Christof wandered into the prom alone, looking around the place as he drank in the decor. It all looked... amazing. Breathtaking, really. He hoped his outfit didn't look foolish, but he trusted Junko's guidance. He felt clean and crisp and it was strange. His patchworked outfit was certainly more colorful than what he usually wore.

There, he spotted Calder and Barth, milling about together. And over there was Riley, Malodore and Jericho... he shifted awkwardly, but remained hovering shyly by the wall, fingering the knives that hung from the belt at his waist. Without directions, without working on the damn thing, he had no idea what to do with himself.

Suddenly by the buffet table, voices drew his attention- and he saw her. Amrita looked... breath taking. His heart was in his throat, quietly drifting toward her- just in time for her to be swept away by that Reaper Rocker boil.

He stayed back by the buffet table meekly. What was he supposed to do with himself at a party? He was an Igor! What did Igors know about attending dances without working them?

He couldn't even help himself to some punch.

He'd have to... just.. wait until she was available, he supposed.

Petro was aware of Lattice's reluctance to dance, very much aware. He didn't claim to understand it, because as far as the horse monster was concerned Lattice was an excellent dancer and Jack help anyone who dared say otherwise within earshot of him. But he understood what it meant that she agreed to his request and it made him smile wider, showing so much teeth that the corner of his eyes crinkled.

Tro's own ah talent for dancing never really came up. He simply allowed the beat and melody to guide his limbs and the music naturally drew out the movement from him. And as such, he lightly tugged Lattice closer to him when the new song began to play. "Y' lemme know'v y' wanna do after this song," he murmured.

Fair's fair.

Soren was easily tempted, taking bits of the tart until he was licking the traces of it from the dark skinned tips of Neru's fingers, indulging for a moment before lifting his head to scan the crowd around them. Others had filtered in while he had been distracted, including a few horsemen. He debated if it was worth it to get up and be sociable, rather enjoying just sitting here nipping at apple tarts and being pampered, but then again they were in the company of yearlings at best.

Snagging one of the glasses of cider he took a long swallow before speaking. "What's your pleasure?" Because really, he was here for her tonight, and if she wanted to dance, visit, or simply remain where she was he was willing to go along with it. The least he could do was point out the fact that he was willing to go along with whatever.

Roch caught her. "Shoes off," he said. "How y'could dance with those things on, I got no clue--y'can put them on afterwards," he decided, stopping his trip towards the dance floor to right her and wait for her to take them off. "Y'might get someone t'watch them, though--I heard Lou's got a shoe fetish or somethin, he might be here."

He let her draw her close to him as she danced along, her movements were reserved by comparison but it was how she was comfortable moving, Lattice didn't often make very broad movements and gestures at all. The Engraver was comfortable and secure in the knowledge that she wouldn't harm Petro with her arms.

Then again if her arms did touch him, she wasn't worried about something horrible happening anymore. Lattice learned that he'd forgive her and she'd simply help patch up the wounds she'd created by accident. It was just the nature of their relationship.

"I..I do not know what I wish to do next," she let out a small laugh.

"ALWAYS like that. I've had t'choke the jacker a few times--which don't work, cuz he's undead," Roch said. "An' it's... different," he said, looking at the forward facing feet. "But hey, we can do a dance that doesn't need t'be bouncin' around, how's that sound?" he offered. Because he was going to get his dance, ok.

"An' if y'want, I'm sure either me or Christof'd dissipate the jacker a few times! I've been tempted t'do it a million times."

Then he grinned and stepped onto the dance floor--and started a goofy dance.