Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was a few minutes after seven when she passed through the doors to the gallery. Well, what she hoped were the doors to the gallery. The numbers on the address outside looked right, but she wasn’t entirely sure she was in the right place. The men who were opening the doors kept giving her looks, but she figured it was because they’d never seen a girl with such curly hair before. Or something.

The person who had handed her the flyer the week before had promised food. Lots of delicious food. And, seeing as how she was free and off work the evening of the thirteenth, she felt it was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of free food. Art - well, art was nice and all, but Mags didn’t understand half of what any of it meant. A bowl of fruit here, a naked lady there - it was nice, but food was nicer.

As she walked into the large, beautiful gallery, the room was immediately lit with conversation and culture. There weren’t as many people as she’d feared there would be, but that’s why she came early. Early birds got the worm - or in this case, free food.

Pulling the wrinkled card out of her back pocket, she glanced down at the fancy writing, rereading the details for the twentieth time that afternoon. Mags guessed that maybe she’d missed the whole “date” aspect of the evening in her hurriedness to fill out the form to the Night of Free Food but that wouldn’t be a problem. She’d just...find this Amaris gal and drag her right to the buffet line and they could have a nice chat amongst the chicken and desserts and (maybe, possibly waffles??).

Wishing Well.

She got excited as she caught that tidbit. There had been a bit of worry that she’d get lost in all of the fancy rooms in the place, but she knew what a well was. Pa's chickens got stuck in his old one plenty of times and she'd been forced to fish 'em out.

Wandering out towards what she hoped was the courtyard, blue eyes searched for anything that came close to resembling a well. The faster she found her partner, the faster they’d get to their grub. Another glance at the card - this gal would be wearin’ a white and red dress....green belt… eyes looked back up and began the hunt again.

As she noticed everyone in their fancy attire, Mags felt really, really relieved that she’d worn her good jeans this evening.

It took her a moment to fish the girl out of the crowd, but the fact she’d already had food in her hands was an effective clue, as blue eyes honed in on the cup of grapes of cheese. She’d already started in on eating? Well heck, that was terrific!

If there had been fur on her clothing, Mags remained oblivious. She’d never bothered with the dating scene before, save for some experimenting behind the big old oak tree when she was a kid, but even then she’d never found the appeal in pressin’ lips together, so she stopped trying to figure it out altogether. Thankfully for Amaris, Mags did decide to take a shower before pluckin’ an outfit from her closet: her nicest jeans (this WAS an art gallery to-do thing, after all) and her least wrinkled button-up collar shirt. It was nice, being forced to wear collared stuff at work - made it easier when it came time to dress for fancy things to attend.

Not that Mags really ever had fancy things to attend.

Blonde curls were tamed into a ponytail, waves of ringlets fighting to break free from their constraints as they bobbed with every step she took. The gal looked nice - sure did dress up all complicated like for the occasion - but the cheese only made Mags think of those little smoked weenies and the other hors d'oeuvres that went with the meats and cheeses. Maybe they had crackers. She wouldn’t be picky.

“Hey there!”

There was no reason for formality, now that she’d found her partner for the evening, so the loud, jovial voice rang out across the courtyard, turning several heads as she hollered. “Amaris, am Ah right?”

Glancing at the card, she quickly shoved it back into her pocket, wrinkling it further. A hand struck out to take hold of the girl’s. “Ah’m Mags - errr- Margaret Butler, but ya can call me Mags. Real pleasure to meet ya, ma’am.”

She had half a mind to go back and shake the event manager's hand. Hot dawg - this gal knew exactly the right thing to say. She talked the right talk, walked the right walk and wasn't afraid to stuff her face in front of others. Walkin' perfection.

"Don't really know nothing about fancy suit-wearin' fellas but if the spread looks good enough for you, Ah can't wait to see it!"

Grapes were alright and cheese was pretty good. Mags couldn't recall the last time she'd ever had any macaroon thingers but Margaret Butler was not one to shy away from tryin' any sort of new food.

....well, except for maybe that snail stuff. She didn't imagine eating slimy snails or tiny fish eggs would be as soul fulfilling as fried chicken and sandwiches were.

Extending her arm out, she grinned at her companion. "Shall we get to investigatin' then, Mz. Ama?"

Mags nodded fervently, listening to the other girl explain about things like college and cheap and while she wasn't one hundred percent certain what she meant by "debase the ******** out of herself for free s**t", the blonde had an inkling of an idea that this woman meant Serious Business when it came to utilizing opportunities to obtain any and everything that was potentially free within grasp.

That took some plum serious dedication, if ya asked her.

As the other woman slid her arm into hers, a wide, s**t-eating grin spread across her face as the thought of the large spread of food slowly began to visualize itself in her mind.

"Don't mind if Ah do, partner."

With that, the duo was back inside the building, their bee-line headed straight for the plates and free grub.