December Event: Pilot Ridge Holiday Bash

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean usually didn’t miss the Pilot Ridge Holiday Bash, because he usually had nothing better to do with his time, and it was a relatively cheap source of entertainment. However, the upcoming Bash this year had been met with less enthusiastic anticipation than in previous years.

Immediately after Josh had been attacked, Sean had insisted on moving his friend into his house for the duration of his recovery. The other man was in no condition to care for himself with his injuries and pain medication, and his friend was notorious for being in poor nutrition and keeping terrible hours. Under the telepath’s watchful eye, he would remember to take his medication at the proper time, he would eat well, and he would have company. The arrangement had worked out well, although Sean was still worried about his friend’s safety, and between that and Hammel, he was drained and not particularly interested in drinking.

This was problematic, because the main source of entertainment at the Holiday Bash was drinking. Josh was also sober for the duration of his medication run, and Josh had wanted to get out, which had put the Bash back on the table. Also, Clarisse from work had planned to go, and had agreed to be his completely platonic, partially-for-appearances date. This was helpful, because his friend didn’t like it when he called him a date, even as a joke.

So the telepath had donned a tuxedo, and then proceeded to fill his trunk with toys, pick up his friends, and drive all three of them downtown to the Bash. He had also insisted on paying for his friends, since he had brought them; Clarisse had been more graceful about it. He had only gotten Josh to agree after declaring it his mitzvah for the month.

Of course, company didn’t solve the problem of sobriety. But the three of them would simply have to find alternative means of entertainment.

[Willow Kovacs]

Willow nearly regretted coming to the party the moment she stepped inside the Club. She recognized other school officials and other familiar faces she'd seen around town before, but lacked the desire to go up and speak to a single one of them. The lizard wasn't well known for her social abilities, probably because there was a lack of them, but it was the holidays. Even the ice queen would seem just a little warmer during Christmas time.

The weather was frigid outside, heavy winds tossing up the already fallen snow that lined the sidewalks. The flakes would dance momentarily in the wind before fluttering back down to another piece of concrete, where they would rest until the next gust came along and repeated the action. Crisp mountain air was tainted with the clouds of warm breath that would linger momentarily before being swallowed up by the cold temperatures surrounding it. Willow shivered just remembering the show walk from the bus station to the building. Although the weather outside was dreadfully cold, and the lizard had the slight anxiety that her body temperature would drop below normal, the club was rather warm. People mingled and chatted, a laugh would be heard every now and then. A tiny quirk of the plum painted lips showed that the woman was affected by the happy energy dancing around the room.

Removing the heavy shawl from around her shoulders, she placed the offending clothing on a rack the establishment provided, and smoothed down her plain black dress. Fiddling with her clutch bag, she took another few steps into the building, her heels click lightly under her weight, the sound muffled by the music that twisted through the conversations going on.

Now came the hard part - actually finding someone to chat with for the next few hours as to not simply sit at the bar and seem menacing, deflecting all chances for human contact. Willow walked forward slowly, messing with her pearl earring and glancing around until she focused on a face she wasn't afraid to approach - Sean Neville. The edges of Willow's painted lips etched upward at his attire. "If it's not inappropriate for me to say so, you look rather ravishing this evening. Sir," She said, standing in front of the man who was still significantly taller than her, despite the three inch heels. Her tone was nearly... playful, something almost disturbing for such a regularly placid person. She would need some alcohol, soon, if she was to keep up this bizarrely good mood.

---

Outfit: Click!

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh was grateful to Sean for hosting him for while he recovered, because really the idea of being alone after his attack was unappealing. He didn't want Sean around for social purposes -- he spent far too much of his recovery time sleeping and reading to avail himself of that -- but he did require the company, preoccupied as it might have been. The fact that there was someone else in the house with him made him feel more at ease than the prospect of being alone at his own home did. It helped that Cobalt had agreed to care for Mopsy during his extended absence; he didn't need to worry about his rabbit's survival on top of everything else.

And worry had been one of his most frequent activities lately. He wasn't concerned about his safety, not while he was staying with Sean, but the attack had made him realize one thing: he was vulnerable. If Sean and Cobalt hadn't shown up those girls would have killed him; and Sean and Cobalt wouldn't have been able to stand against them if they hadn't also been meta. He hated to acknowledge these feelings, that somehow he was lacking just because he was what his friend referred to as base-line human and what the twins had called simply human, but there it was: He felt decidedly inferior at the moment.

He thought perhaps socializing instead of staying in bed all day would help take his mind off this problematic new attitude, and thus when Sean had mentioned a holiday party he had stressed his eagerness to attend. So now here he was, trailing behind Sean and Clarisse, bruises mercifully fading to be almost unnoticeable, resigned to the fact that his best friend had insisted on paying for his entry and trying to convince himself that he had made the right choice in asking to go and that this would be fun. He liked parties! He liked socializing and dancing -- and he liked drinking, which was depressingly forbidden. Perhaps there would be hot chocolate or hot cider provided for the teetotalers among the crowd; surely not all of Pilot Ridge's citizens were as fond of alcohol as he was.

At the approach of a rather tall young woman with short hair he took a step back, allowing Sean and Clarisse to speak with her if they wished while distancing himself from any potential conversation while he scanned the restaurant for signs of anyone he knew: Leila was talking to another young woman dressed with a look that reminded him strongly of his college days; Cobalt was dancing with a pretty blonde woman; and over by the bar was a woman of Asian descent who seemed familiar somehow, though he couldn't quite place where he knew her from. And that, he realized, was the extent of the people he recognized. He didn't know either Leila or Cobalt's friends (dates? Neither one had mentioned seeing anyone, but then, relationships were one of the few topics of conversation that had never come up.) and if anyone else he was acquainted with was there yet they were lost in the crowds.

He glanced toward the bar longingly; he would feel much more social if he could only drink. Unfortunately, his medications were not supposed to be mixed with alcohol. He sighed regretfully and seated himself beside a well-dressed man around his own age. The bartender was on the other side of the bar, dealing with a customer who apparently felt she was the only person attending the party so he directed his query to the other gentleman. "Do you know if they offer hot chocolate here?"

[Jacob Dalton]

Dalton glanced over at the new fellow who seemed a bit out of it. Something told Dalton it wasn’t that he had started early: there was a sense of malaise about the man, as if he had just been through a protracted illness. He glanced across the bar, studying the back area carefully. “Looks like they have an espresso machine: if they brought milk or creamer and chocolate syrup for mochas, you should be in business. A standard chocolate do for you, or did you want a mocha something-or-other?”

Seeing that the fellow appeared a bit dazed, Dalton kept alert to catch the bartender’s attention and call him over as soon as he could make it. “Sir: my friend was hoping for a hot chocolate. Could you set him up? Perhaps whipped cream, a dash of nutmeg?”

Dalton reached out a hand to steady the man who seemed to be canted slightly on the barstool. “Easy, there! Rest an arm on the bar, there you go…”

Dalton dropped a five on the counter and waved back the dollar he was offered for change. “No worries: enjoy…”

[Kali Caraway]

Kali didn't normally go for a stuffy party that wasn't at her own bar, but honestly, she went to see if she couldn't meet any one she had gone to high school with. She figured one or two might have drifted back to the school, that had yet drifted into her Kafe. It was a flimsy want, but she dressed up for it anyway. She figured half the women and all the men would be wearing black, because that was adult dress code for a Christmas party, right? She kept to that tradition, but she was pretty sure she would be the only one there with her color of hair, which was so red it near about set off fire alarms.

She hadn't gotten a date, because hell! She didn't know anyone her own age here, outside of her coworkers, and to go with them would just be weird and awkward. She had no problem flying stage, because she knew she was not going home alone. That just wasn't Kali M.O. The only reason why she didn't drive her (also) brilliantly red Jeep to this event, was because she was going to be too drunk to drive back home. She'd walked from her store, which was only about two blocks away, and probably where she was going to crash, and arrived thoroughly cold.

Not like a good stiff drink of whiskey wouldn't warm her up. As she walked, she glanced left and right at the people she was passing in a sort of 'do I know you' way, but she was let down each time she met their eyes. Near the bar, she noticed the notorious Sean Neville, who looked the same as he had since Kali had met him, nearly ten years ago. Great guy. She had half a mind to go talk him up, but she figured he didn't want to be approached at the moment. At this time of night, there really wasn't that much going on.

She slid her way into a spot at the bar and whistled for attention, because on a busy night like this, she knew the best way to get served, since she spent all her nights on the other side of the bar. She got herself a bit of whiskey and knocked it back. Shots was where Kali reigned supreme. She hated sipping a drink all night, even a mixed drink. It just lowered the potency of each drink and meant you had to keep drinking the crappy thing, just to get the effect of one shot--which by the time you finished the drink, the effect was already wearing off. No. She took a shot about every ten minutes--call her what you will, she knew how to have a good time.

Will her shot warming her belly, she turned her eyes to the dance floor, she didn't exactly want to dance alone, but she also wasn't going to wait around for someone to ball up and ask her. She moved her way on and started dancing. She was having fun, honestly.

[Midori Hawkins]

Leila wasn’t the only one going to this thing stag.

Pregnant or not, this was Midori’s first Christmas in Pilot Ridge as an adult. She didn’t want to miss this.

... And no, she wasn’t going just to tease her poor best friend, who was reportedly bringing a date.

The recruiter had dolled herself up as best as she could. She’d never had an easy time identifying as pretty, let alone sexy. It was even harder now, with her ever present (and growing) baby bump. Still, after talking to Sean, and Clarisse, she felt miles better. She’d told her parents, her brothers, and things didn’t seem so dark anymore.

She was wearing what she hoped was a flattering green dress, and low heels. Her long hair was straightened and swept back with a silver headband. Because she’d had the time, she’d childishly painted her fingernails in alternating red and green. Hey, it was the holidays. She was allowed to get away with things like that.

Apart from her colleagues from work, she really didn’t know many people in town. It didn’t look like Eli was here yet, so after nodding to a few people that she recognized from Hammel, she’d settled near the bar, ordering just diet soda. She was content to be alone for a while. Well, almost alone.

[Clarisse Prideaux]

Ensemble here!

Clarisse could tell that Sean wasn’t looking as forward to the party as he usually was, but she was determined to have a nice time, and in turn offer a nice time to her platonic date. While she hadn’t been too keen on letting him pay, he had insisted. A lady never pushed. Having accepted the paid way and the ride gracefully, there was really nothing to do except make sure the two men had a nice time sans booze. She’d already made Sean promise to dance with her.

If there was one thing Clarisse could do, it was cut a rug. Salsa, Rumba, Swing and Tango…a waltz if she was feeling romantic. It was just something she loved! She didn’t figure she’d spend the money on alcohol tonight either, so she assumed dancing and socializing would be her two best bets. When they exited the car and headed into the building, Clarisse leaned over to Sean with a smile on perfectly stained red lips. “Do you think the coat check is easier to find this year?” she inquired of both men, recalling previous years when the coat check was a complete hassle. And there was no way Clarisse was letting go of the fine fur-trimmed coat she was wearing this year. If it looked sketchy, she’d wear the coat all night.

The knee length garment hid her entire ensemble, except her pearly white shoes. Yet if the soles of the heels were any indication, she would be full of holiday cheer. Holiday cheer meaning red. As she unbuttoned her coat and peeled it off her arms, the cheery Christmas red of the dress stood out sharply on her pale skin. The full skirt would certainly swirl well on the dance floor.

Clasping her French-manicured hands in front of her, her coat draped over her arms, she offered them both a hopeful smile. “Its going to be fun don’t you---….” She trailed off as Josh wandered towards the bar. She looked up to Sean, her smile fading demure. “…think we should follow?” Clarisse offered Sean, nodding towards the bar. Hopefully the coat check was in the same direction.

She approached Josh and put a tender hand on his back, light as feather (in case he was hurting). “Making friends already?” Clarisse asked, gently and politely inserting herself into the conversation…mostly to ask if either man knew where to locate the coat check. “You’re such a social butterfly, Mr. Bernstein.” She added with a laugh. Despite considering Josh a well-loved friend, she occasionally referred to him by his last name…for no reason in particular other than that it was in her personality to do so.

[Eli Morrison]

Eli had never gone to the Pilot Ridge Holiday Party before. Part of that was due to him only turning 21 two years ago, despite having worked at Hammel since he was 17. Another part was the fact that Eli didn't drink. And the last part was probably that he hadn't had anyone to go with before. This year, if he'd had more of a choice, he would have come with his best friend, Midori. But then Emiko had...happened.

And now he had a date.

He had a date, and now he was going to a place with a bar, where most people were going to be drinking, and all he could do was think about how he had skipped prom and how he wasn't supposed to be there. Because of that, he hesitated before leaving his apartment. Eli had stalled over and over, organizing his things, putting on the only tie he owned (and taking it off again), and taking Zero out. He actually didn't leave the building until right before the time he'd promised Emiko he'd meet her. The walk over to the restaurant was shorter than he'd have liked. Despite the cold, he hadn't worn gloves or a hat, so he pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders and stopped dawdling.

Once he was inside, he hung up his coat looked around for the person he wanted to see, Midori. But then he saw Emiko, and well, he was supposed to go talk to her first, right? He nodded at the various people he knew from Hammel, both from working there and from being a student. As he walked, he bumped into a couple who were making their way out onto the dance floor. He didn't recognize the man, but the woman had been a classmate of his, so he greeted her before moving on, "Oh, hello Penny."

He slid into the seat next to his date and offered her a weak smile. "I'm sorry I'm late." And since she seemed so dressed up, he was sorry that he hadn't worn the tie. He wore his nicest shirt--Mii said the dark green made his hazel eyes stand out--and dress pants. Green was Christmassy, right? "How long have you been waiting?"

[Shane McLeod]

Shane decided that he was going to the Christmas party after all. Savvy had invited him after he’d gotten lost trying to find his office earlier in the week. He’d told her hesitantly that he’d try to head that way and gotten directions from her. Well here he was, getting dressed up for an East Coast Christmas shin-dig, except he didn’t have a tux or even a blazer that was remotely suitable enough for what he figured the typical style would be. His only option to look presentable? Dress like it was a Montana party. That meant a leather bolo-tie with his fleur de lis clasp, a stylish black and red button up shirt, a new set of black wranglers, and of course—boots. He figured that he’d be a sore thumb already, and the better part of discretion was to leave his cowboy hat behind.

He grabbed his leather jacket on the way out the door and headed for the Lexus. It had been a graduation present from his parents after he got his second degree. They’d said that if their son was going to be a doctor, he at least needed to drive like one. Even though it’d sat in storage for the past two years and was brand new, Shane preferred to drive his truck. But, the boots and bolo were all the hick he wanted to risk tonight.

He parked his car and walked through the snow into the building. The myriad of emotions and cacophonic hum that makes the background noise of a party was full swing. There was even music playing. Almost something he could 2-step to. Dancing was one of Shane’s hidden passions, well revision, country dancing and swing were his passion. He couldn’t stand rap and hadn’t learned any formal dances. But he was right about the hat, better to leave that at home. Most of the dress here looked designer tagged…

He saw a bar off to the side and B-lined for it, weaving his way through the crowd he made it close enough to the bar to see Savvy, flirting? talking to another woman dressed up to the nine’s in a blue dress. Amidst the press of bodies he still caught waves of arousal/attraction off of her when he concentrated long enough. Better to let her hunt solo. “Glen Levitte rocks please.” He hailed the bartender and gave him a $10 for the booze and a tip.

He looked to his right and the man had a stench of manufactured pain killers that were blocking his natural endorphins. Shane looked over the man’s (Josh’s) head and saw Jacob Dalton nursing a drink. “Jacob!” He said familiarly. “It’s nice to see a friendly face here." He gestured to Josh, "is your friend here alright? He seems to be on a nasty concoction of morphine and god knows what else. Let's get him away from the bar?" he suggested with his doctorly concerned tone.

[Paulo Ortiz]

"Well, nice to meet you," Paulo said, smiling and nodding to each of them, while he did a scan for Christina Morrison. No luck. The woman was just as bad at lying as she appeared.

Once the other couple was out of earshot, he looked back down at the woman on his arm. "She's a liar. He isn't, though." His voice was the same as always, low and quiet, and lacking that threatening edge that made people uncomfortable. "Yes, see what she can do. Some kind of sensing."

It was amazing how convenient this party was for their mission. They could be seen together, mingle, and still look perfectly normal as they whispered back and forth, like lovers. His smile was almost genuine as he nodded. Dancing sounded good; it was one of the few physical talents he had ever picked up. "Of course," he said, before turning to lead her to the dance floor.

And that was when a tall, thin, young man brushed by them, and headed to the other side of the room, barely sparing them a glance. But first, he greeted Paulo's "wife" by name.

By her actual name.

"Quién es él?" Paulo's voice dropped to an even lower growl, and his his hand around her wrist squeezed, not enough for it to be noticeable to someone watching, but enough that Penny knew he could make it much worse. Who is he?

He pulled her onto the dance floor, still looking ever the gentleman. A slower song was playing, so it looked natural that he pulled her close to him, so they could murmur without anyone hearing. He also started to searches for the people they'd been warned to stay clear of, because if someone recognized Penny, then who knew who else could try to talk to her? He knew the Hammel staff wouldn't recognize him on sight, and he had one bit of luck from the disorienting property of his power. The same quirk that made him untraceable to himself made him untraceable to psychic powers in certain conditions. In a crowded room, his mind would go unnoticed. He had nothing to fear, so long as he was around more than ten people. And there were a lot more than ten people around, so his anger at his "wife" for blowing their cover was lost in a mess of inebriated emotions.

[Jacob Dalton]

<< “Making friends already?” >>

The voice broke in on Dalton’s intense focus on his woozy companion, almost startling him. He glanced back to see the speaker, and felt his heart skip a beat.

Some women have a raw, natural beauty, and leave it untended like wild roses in a garden. Some women are less naturally blessed, but have learned the delicate craft to enhance their appearance with skill and taste. In Dalton’s experience, relatively few women have both. He was looking at one now.

Dalton set great store in not judging a book by its cover, but this “cover” positively screamed of refinement and good taste. He felt his own posture straighten almost instinctively in response.

“The gentleman appears a bit under the weather,” he heard himself say: “there’s a cocoa on the way for him.”

Had he spoken it, or stammered? *”there’s a cocoa on the way…”* Dear Lord: to the American lady he must sound like a complete British prig. A”cocoa?” Really, now!

Not that it mattered: she was obviously with his new acquaintance, most likely the man’s wife or at least fiance’. After all: what straight, sane man would pass on the evident interest of a charming lady like this?

<< “You’re such a social butterfly, Mr. Bernstein.” >>

Mr. Bernstein? Then again, perhaps his first impression was mistaken.

He chuckled. “I daresay he had the good sense to sit before he might fall. Hopefully the rest of the revelers here tonight will have the good sense to follow suit.”

He still felt a bit awkward: they hadn’t exactly been introduced, but to ask her name right now when her companion was is such distress would seem far too forward. At that point his genuine concern for her companion kicked his attention in that direction. “By the by: Mr. Bernstein had not yet introduced himself or mentioned any cause for his condition. I do hope the gentleman is alright?”

He didn’t mean to talk over Mr. Bernstein as if he wasn’t there, but at that point the hot chocolate had just arrived and Mr. Bernstein seemed momentarily distracted. At least, that was the excuse Dalton chose to tell himself…

<< “Jacob!” He said familiarly. “It’s nice to see a friendly face here." He gestured to Josh, "is your friend here alright? He seems to be on a nasty concoction of morphine and god knows what else. Let's get him away from the bar?" >>

Dalton turned to recognize the gent who had popped into the office on his first day, then popped right back out with Mary --- the doctor? Shane, was it?

“Good to see you again, Shane. Don’t worry: I daresay he is in capable hands here. I was just asking about his condition from his companion, Miss… ?”

*Thank you, Shane!* he thought to himself: a request for an opportunity to introduce the lady to someone else seemed apropos…

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean would have followed Clarisse immediately in her quest to find a coat rack and to track down Josh – although Sean had to admit that his friend had agency, even if he was still on painkillers. However, he was interrupted by a surprising figure. Willow Kovacs, the recruiter who inspired more fear in students than any other faculty member in recent history. Unsurprisingly, the psychiatrist liked her. He remembered her when she had been a student, and he knew that there was a good soul beneath her rough exterior.

She also cleaned up nicely – although he kept that thought to himself, as she was too young for him and he wouldn’t’ want her to get the wrong impression – and he always enjoyed seeing the formal outfits people stashed in their closets for occasions such as this. “It’s only inappropriate if I’m not allowed to return the compliment,” he told her with a genuine smile. “And please, don’t ‘Sir,’ me; you’re welcome to call me Sean.” He picked up on the desire for alcohol, and he couldn’t fault her; if he hadn’t the responsibilities or the paranoia, he would already be two martinis into this evening. “Will you let me buy you a drink?”

As they talked, he glanced around, taking in the people who had arrived. He recognized several of them, either through Hammel or his personal life, or from around town. However, the Asian young woman and the man with her were unfamiliar, as was whoever Eli was with. Well, Pilot Ridge might be a small town, but there was always shifting; he would come to know them in time, surely. He was bristled, slightly, by the fact that his usual mental scans came up negative for the strange man; meta, surely, if he had a power to block the telepath. And it had to be a power and not shields, because those still registered. His paranoia was getting to him, if the mere existence of someone from whom he couldn’t protect others was enough to set him off. He needed a drink.

Unfortunately, he had pledged sobriety. Maneuvering her towards the throng of people who had surrounded Josh, he called out before reaching the area and pointed at his friend, “I’ll have what he’s having, whatever it is.”

[Clarisse Prideaux]

Clarisse blinked at Josh’s new acquaintance. Cocoa. That’d probably make him feel better indeed. “Lovely. That’ll chase away any aches and pains I think.” She nodded slowly, her dark hair curled in loose ringlets bobbing around her shoulders with the motion. Her hand left Josh’s back as she looked over her shoulder for Sean: He hadn’t followed her, as she’d expected.

She caught sight of him with Willow, and turned her attention back to the conversation. He was clearly doing just fine. And Josh’s new friend was clearly not American. The French woman was always glad to hear another non-American accent in a group. Though she’d been in the states for years, there were still cultural shocks she’d never get used to…like the appropriateness of the tight red dress a young Asian woman was wearing. It made Clarisse’s inner lady blush.

“I’ll let Joshua speak for himself.” Clarisse said politely, smiling down at the older man. She was certain he was alright…at least alright enough to be out for a little while. But just in case, she didn’t plan to allow him far out of sight without the presence of Sean. Not that she didn’t trust Doctor Neville with the charge, she just figured they’d be able to tag-team the effort. That was if she could ever break her curiosity from the---English? Perhaps. Clarisse was terrible with accents--- man at the bar.

She hadn’t seen him around, and most of the faces in the room were familiar, even if they were unknown. Pilot Ridge was tiny town. You saw everyone at least once in your life. This face was new, however. Another new one quickly appeared. Clarisse had corresponded with Shane McLeod via email for several weeks before his arrival, but wasn’t familiar with his face or appearance. Clearly the two men were acquainted.

“Goodness, it’s an evening for new faces!” She murmured, laying her hand against her chest and removing it from Josh’s back. She smiled at the new face, but found herself studying Dalton instead. She shook herself when he prompted her for her name. “Prideaux.” She said suddenly, her musical French accent uttering the name as it was meant to be said. “Doctor…actually.” Clarisse gently corrected. “PhD. But please…” She extended her hand to him, tucking a lock of hair behind her small ear. “Call me Clarisse.”

[Penny Stone]

Penny hadn't needed Paulo's power to know that she was lying, but she felt good to have it proven. Penny's power helped her pick out lies, and the woman had looked...always afraid of them for a moment. It had been a brief expression, which led Penny to believe the feeling that caused the expression was short-lived. Whatever the reason, the woman had known, for some reason, they weren't to be trusted. She didn't really mind, only that their cover wasn't as complete as she had previously imagined.

She was prepared to follow Paulo's lead to the dance floor, however she recognized the 'tall man' before he reached them. Eli. They were classmates together. They had the same power. If there was one person that could blow her cover, it was him. She was glad he didn't stay and chat. She was prepared to move out of the way before he saw her but--Oh, hello Penny.. Not that there were many people watching them. But this could not happen again. Penny's heart pattered tightly in her chest and she followed Paulo, even as he tightened his hand on her wrist. If it got any tighter, she had a mind to reverse the hold and possibly break it. Penny didn't work well with threats.

At his question she composed her features. Yes. He was in his rights to be mad--their cover was blown for all intents and purposes. She cleared her head and as they got closer together to 'dance.' She filled him in. "We went to Hammel together. We have very similar powers." The only difference being, his was a bit better than hers. Previously, she wouldn't have expected to see anyone of her graduating class back, but it seemed like there were. She looked around, remembering all the people she graduated with, and saw at least three people she recognized. There was no telling if they actually remembered her. She kept glancing around, as a small woman who was enjoying her surroundings, and spotted Sean at the bar. Crap. This would be harder than she originally started.

Part of her training had let her create blocks--files she referred to them as--in her mind to stop herself from recalling everything at once. Those files, or blocks, also kept telepaths from reading her mind. If Penny kept her Ming Yue 'memories' and all thoughts about her new husband. They why would a telepath notice something was up? Not to mention, it seemed Sean hadn't recognize her, as their eyes briefly met. She looked back up at Paulo, a small smile on her face. "It won't happen again."

[Benjamin Rhodes]

"You're going to be late,"

Ben was startled from the file he had been scouring for the past hour. Worry had etched his eyebrows closer into the middle of his still young-looking face but the moment his eyes landed on his pretty assistant, Casey, he ceased to frown and a smile formed his lips. "I don't think these parties really start til late anyway. But I think you're right." Ben started clearing his desk to which Casey smacked a perfectly manicured hand on the desk.

"Don't you dare. Go home, get dressed and enjoy yourself at the party." Even pregnant, Casey's gaze was practically menacing despite having such a delicate looking face. Ben gave her another smile. "You should be resting, my dear. You look just about to blow up."

"Hush. You don't call a woman fat to her face. Especially when she has claws." To which Casey curled her fingers up and growled at him. Ben held back his laughter and stood from his seat, slinging his briefcase around his shoulder. "Say hello to the girls and your husband for me." He held a hand up before leaving the building altogether to make a quick drive home, glad to have dodged the rush hour.

With a quick bath, Ben found himself in a pale green button down shirt and dark pants. Slipping into his shoes, he grabbed his suit and knee length coat before leaving his house to head over to the party.

It was already in full swing by the time he arrived. Checking his coat, Ben's eyes made a sweep of the hall to find many familiar faces. Holding up a hand in a wave to his parents and Artie and his wife, Ben handed the envelope with his donation to one of the staff before walking over to greet his family.

After mindless chatter, Ben excused himself to head to the bar that already had a few occupants. Ordering a gin and tonic, he slid on to the high stool, his back to the bar to look around. Nodding at a few people who returned his gesture, he took in a few people he hadn't seen before and made note that he should introduce himself somehow.

"Your drink, sir." Ben turned slightly only to take his drink before resuming his position. There were people fussing over a vaguely familiar man who looked too uncomfortable under all the attention he was getting. Taking a long sip from his glass, he relished the burning sensation running down his throat.