[center][h3][color=ed1c24]Gregory Jones[/color][/h3][/center]
[center][IMG]http://i656.photobucket.com/albums/uu288/wittywolf35/Real%20Guys/8c16aa80.jpg[/IMG][/center]

[u][b]Location:[/b][/u] Just outside the Great Hall, entrance steps
[u][b]Interacting With:[/b][/u] Elize [@Aspen Wren]
[hr][hr]

Gregory admired Elize from afar for a moment, just watching her lithe form glide over the grass. Although a couple inches taller than himself, he wasn't intimidated by the difference. Not when it was such an elegant and beautiful girl such as Elize. He rubbed his hands together in a little bit of self-encouragement, psyching himself up to step up to the plate. He didn't really care that Johnson was there, the guy was barely a blip on his radar. And Hyacinthus was a nice guy, no way would he ruin his chances right now but stepping up to take the dance the French beauty offered. And Slick couldn't have asked for a more romantic setting, the sun making the sky light up with colors. He could easily hear their conversation and he inwardly crowed at her confession. Stag? No one had asked her? Well, let him be the first!

Making sure his hat was on an acceptable looking angle, he quickly shed his robes, rolling them into a ball of sorts before storing it behind one of the pillars. Underneath, he'd worn a black button down shirt and slim black jeans, ending with his usual converse. He just hoped the tread on his shoes would last and he wouldn't slip in the slick grass that Elize now gracefully danced in. She was a sight... Walking up with a jaunty stride and a confident smirk, he bent low at the waist, looking up at Elize from under the brim of his hat. [color=ed1c24]"If you wouldn't mind Elize... I'd love to take that dance."[/color] His eyes were alight with mischief. The luck he had of catching her in such a mood was fairly surprising. Slick never looked a gift horse in the mouth, however. He'd spent a long time learning to ballroom dance for his mother's wedding and knew that his body would remember the motions. He just hoped he lived up to Elize's graceful expectations.

He'd been entranced by her dancing, the movements looking almost like breathing to the girl. Slick had known she acted the consummate lady, but it seemed it wasn't so much as a personality trait as something learned. So the higher class of wizard still put their daughters through that kind of etiquette training? Not for the first time, Gregory wondered at the exact hierarchy and culture of Purebloods and the noble blood lines. What made them better than other wizards, was it this? This culture and history bred and taught to their children since birth? Yet, Elize had none of the arrogance Gregory had learned to expect of the upper class.