#((but whatever))

         “Absolutely, not.” Why does she keep getting results like this? Whatever the answer for this conundrum was, Mewtwo will forever refuse to accept them. 

Kevin sighed as he slowly walked through the strangely sweet smelling hall of party goers, his heels clicking against the finely polished marble floors with every step. Over the course of the night his gaze had gone from wide and wondering to sad and downcast, the glittering gold of the dancers having lost their appeal after watching them from afar for so long. He'd been so excited to go to the dance; his first real chance at meeting new people and getting away from work, his apartment, and the strex assigned workers who looked after him. No one really tended to speak to him outside of any of those mandatory activities, and although the masquerade had also been mandatory, he'd hoped... He cast his glance around the hall once more, a single, half drunk glass of punch in hand as he wandered through the crowds, the costume wings he'd chosen to wear drooping somewhat around his shoulders from the long hours of being worn. He licked his lips as he turned his eyes on his punch glass, before lifting it to his lips and downing the rest of it, setting the empty cup on a passing waiters tray. It wasn't even really like he could leave for the night, either, given that he had no choice but to be there until the end of the party. He pushed his mask up to rub at his eyes, tiredly trotting over to the far wall of the hall, letting out a puff of air as he twirled on his heel to turn and flop against it, somewhat crushing his fragile wings. So much for those movies he sometimes caught while cooking dinner about people going to dances and their lives being completely changed by the people they meet there. He supposed it was rather silly to believe such fictitious tropes as that, though. 

Hmmm, let me think about this...anon, you're full of bullshit!!