[center][h1][b]Peter[/b][/h1][b]Time:[/b] Night
[b]Location:[/b] Damien Estate Ballroom
[b]Interaction(s):[/b] Blue [@CitrusArms][/center]
“Don’t flatter myself?” Peter slapped a hand against his chest, eyebrows shooting up in mock shock. “If I don’t, who’s gonna? World’s already done a bang-up job convincing us we’ll never be enough. But I know my worth and I’m gonna give credit where it’s due. So yeah, I am quite the looker alright.” His grin stretched into a full-on sh*t-eating display. “Enough to catch your eye and not let go even after the dance was done.” If Blue’s gaze could shoot daggers, he turned into a knife block in the time it took to browse the buffet spread. “No shame in owning up to it, you know?”

Satisfied with his assessment of Blue, he committed the location of her weapon to memory before signaling the passing server.

[color=peru]“Where'd y'learn a jig like tha', anyway?”[/color] she asked.

“Here and there.” He shrugged, trading his empty glass for a full one off the server’s tray without missing a beat. “But that ain’t what you’re really asking, is it?” As Peter took a sip, he eyed her over the rim of his glass.

He was ready for the usual crack about how “his kind” shouldn’t be rubbing elbows with the high and mighty. Except, her accent tipped him off that she didn’t exactly belong either. His guess? Blue got to hang here because she was cozy with someone who did.

Peter pretended not to notice the accusation behind Blue’s probing question about missing belongings. He just checked his pockets, turning it inside out for show, and patted himself down. “Yeah. Why?”

[hider=TL;DR]Peter continued to talk with Stratya.
[@CitrusArms][/hider]