Neven grabbed his book and looked though it, so they were all simply assigned numbers? Strange. He turned back to the chocolate fountain only to find it was currently in use. Hm, as good a chance as any. "[b]Good evening, I'm number three for tonight. Would it be too troublesome to ask for your number[/b]?" Neven asked exceedingly formally, his own voice unfamiliar to him by the voice disguiser that barely fit under his mask, flamboyant as it was.

He held out his book expectantly. Though it looked like the person in question was looking to avoid dancing more than anything else, if Neven was going to make it home he had to participate and he would, one way or the other. Perhaps they could dance a very slow dance and simply dine on snacks next to each other and make it look good enough for their prison guard to let them off the hook.

[@Roecoon]