[b][center][h3][color=orange] Lein [/color][/h3][/center][/b]
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[b][color=orange]Location:[/color][/b] The Royal Ball
[b][color=orange]Interactions:[/color][/b] Fanilly [@VitaVitaAR] Fionn [@The Otter]
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	Lein's expression contained multitudes. It was a combination of a polite smile, a faint trace of the disappointed indignation, and a mask of that ever-present obtuseness; though his eyes seemed to look too distantly for him to be looking at anyone within the ball. Any chances to interpret his expression however, would be swept away as he launched into another lilting address. [color=orange]"Ah, what a shame. I thought to pick the grand dress especially for a delightful occasion such as this, but it seems my efforts were misplaced in the eyes of our dear leader.[/color]" He crooked his head, as if Fanilly had outright insulted his dress and the 'Baroness' was barely keeping a sense of polite dignity.

	This expression crystallized into a more defined fanged smile, a tell-tale sign to anyone familiar with his antics that very little of what he had just said was genuine. If Fanilly couldn't catch on, though, little would help her discern which sentiments of the strange Hundi 'noble' was dramatized. [color=orange]"Don't worry, [i]mein kapitan[/i], we are all estranged in this little ball, and a bit of nervousness is only natural. Regardless of dress or title, we're all the same fools in gilded clothes, so please do remember to enjoy yourself. But my, look at us, letting this banquet go to the cold!"[/color]

	Would that be an assurance that Lein intended it to be, or add to the list of worries on Fanilly's mind? Who knew. Lein didn't bother to check and simply flitted away. He stepped through the strings of conversation, taking account of all those who stepped through. Cecilia was flirting with some elves and an arachni. Sergio and Gerard was already tied down by a thong of overexcited ladies. Renar and Fleuri was having some sort of amicable confrontation. Hmm. He was down to a couple of options. Lein did toy with the idea of haunting the old hag Ty the entire time and spooking her company the entire night - but Lein would definitely be pushing his luck there. Besides, he was getting awful hungry. There was probably no way Lein could fit anything down his throat while he was still in this stranglehold of a corset, so a few more people to accost, then he'll change into something more comfortable.

	The first of these would be Fionn, the Veltan swordsman. Lein had avoided this Knight the same way he avoided Sergio - never fond of the churchy types. Besides, between Lein's regular patrols keeping tabs on his compatriots always simply noted Fionn down as being at either the training yard or the chapel, and such a simplicity signaled to Lein that Fionn was either very good at hiding a scam or just a very straight cutter. Lein leaned into the latter interpretation; the man looked thoroughly out of focus in the glitz of the ball, seemingly more concerned about the glass in his hand than the dresses and suits that milled about him. Perhaps it should be up to Lein to make him feel more welcome.

	Lein strutted up, fan in hand and approached Fionn from the back, lightly tapping him on the shoulder. His tail swayed gently behind him, with an expression of excited curiosity (and should one catch on, a touch of malice) as he addressed Fionn. [color=orange]"[i]Guten tag[/i], Herr Fionn! I heard from the gossip of the vines that you must simply the man to talk to! I confess - your sense of fashion is quite remarkable! Pray tell, are these blades the very same you used to dispatch those horrid Bandit King crooks?"[/color]