betwixtarcher
   In truth the whole event was a little overwhelming, if not exhausting for someone who valued the quiet more often than not. That's why he's taken a moment to step away from the large crowds, to find a place secluded from the masses to recuperate as it were. A few individuals are scattered around the area, admiring the pieces the museum has presented. Although away from the dancing, he can hear the faint sounds of music and chatter, and if he dare say he could remain here and be content. Yet despite his ways, he yearned for the company of those he called friends, they are the reason he can be comfortable in a place he'd usually avoid.
  As if to answer that desire, crimson eyes concealed behind ebon mask spot a familiar individual, regardless of her mask he can tell it's her. He'd not spoken to her directly for a little while, yet they'd exchanged messages frequently. She stands, admiring a piece that both of them can recognise. Their tactician and the fateful day whereupon she gave her life to end Grima for good. He considers leaving her be, yet ultimately decides to quietly approach. Standing at her side he takes a moment to eye the painting before turning to look upon her visage. It's odd seeing his comrades out of their usual attire, yet he cannot deny how well suited everyone is in their chosen garments. Noire is no exception, adorning a dress that exemplified her natural grace.
  "I suppose I'm not the only one needing a short respite...it's a little er crowded in there," understanding that she might be somewhat similar to him in that regard. Although their past meetings had leaned more towards the awkward side he attempts to speak as casually as possible.
