#darkiball

Weiss blinked at Rayan, noticing her still fuming over that Warfstache tripping her up on the dance floor. "Rayan?" He asked gently. "Are you alright?"

She swiftly covered up her irritation with a calm mask. "Yeah. I'm fine," she answered curtly.

"We can leave, if you --"

"No, no!" Rayan cut off quickly. "I might be fourteen, but you know that I can take care of myself." A small smile formed on her lips. "How about we go off and dance? Maybe meet a few people while we're at it?"

The -Iplier felt a small panic rising from the pit his stomach at the thought of meeting people, but managed to drown it out. He could do this; it wasn't going to kill him. Weiss shrugged. "Why not?"

Rayan took him by the arm and dragged him back out on the floor, her frustration seemingly forgotten. It did make him smile, though. The fact that he managed to cheer her up softened the edgy feeling in his stomach. The two started dancing, more or less forgetting the fact that anybody else was in the ballroom with them. Rayan couldn't wipe the grin off her face, and was pleased to see that her date did the same.

At some point, she felt her back bump into someone else's, and her whole body went rigid at the touch. She swept around to face a Dark, looking much like one of those Warfstaches, but his messy combed over hair and sharp teeth defined him from the others. He wore a slightly smug smile, with the famous pink mustache set atop it. A curvy woman with distinct blue and purple hair and a green and black dress, stood next to him, a curious expression on her face.

"O - Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!" She sputtered, fearful of the Warfstache facing her.

Weiss, looking absolutely shell-shocked, tried and failed to mask it. He had a feeling that this might happen, but couldn't really find the words to say it. If things did go ugly, however, he would play his cards.