#ravenroulette

To see a familiar face is always a pleasure, and even something of a relief when one finds oneself all but drowning in a sea of strangers.

Thus is a rather-- odd observation to make, more than it is anything else, all things considered. Circumstances in mind, all faces are - frankly - as good as those of strangers when concealed behind masks, however ornate ─ but perhaps driven by some subconscious wish to find comfort in the company of somebody already an acquaintance, the young woman has it is her head nevertheless that the wallflower she approaches now is indeed one she knows. Even as he has his back to her.

After all, how many people - males, that is - wear long, dark hair tied back into a ponytail in this day and age? Not many besides the one she has in mind, she wagers, and it is primarily this resemblance which inspires confrontation.

Granted that she and the gentleman hardly know one another as the present stands (and this is truer than she knows), but, all the same, she keeps to the belief that she'll do best to first humour the company of even just a vague acquaintance while the night is still young, before she endeavours to interact with stranger folk. Hitching up her gown slightly as to allow easier movement, and with her own mask held up to conceal all her face but a soft smile, she steps gently over to the one she thinks she recognises. A gentle clearing of her throat announces her approach (a tap on the shoulder would have been too personal, too informal) before she dares to greet a complete stranger--