It's the event of the season, retinues and representatives from all corners of the Galaxy! Prime socialising opportunities, and network building to boot.

Yet, for all that, Isabelle can only find her thoughts focusing on the dance floor and the woman's hand by her side. She leads the other woman out, where a small ensemble is currently playing Alazairs Concerto no. 8.

She stands opposite Asil, smiling slightly at the other woman and raises a hand. Asil's out of her element, but can recognise a signal easily enough and places her own against it. They step slowly, giving each other time to acclimatise to the movements, to the beat. Swaying back and forth amongst the other dancers as the whole station seems to fade away into the background.

Eventually Asil gets more comfortable. Isabelle can tell, in the way her shoulders untense. In the way that she starts to lead the movements, despite not knowing the proper steps. She raises an arm and Isabelle twirls beneath it. She comes forward, challenging, and Isabelle steps around her, behind her. Coming up to her side. The dance changes into a game - Asil trying to direct her, Isabelle follows, but at the same time [i]guides[/i]. Yes, you can pull me in - but I will step this way, so that we don't collide. Yes, you can send me away, but only till our fingers' last joints - lest I lose you. The two of them feel their way through the set, dancing in harmony while also learning more about one another.

All too soon, the dance will be over. Whether from Almira reminding her duties in socialising. Or maybe Adriana will give her a signal (she hasn't [i]completely [/i]forgotten that the woman wanted to speak with her). Or maybe, just maybe, the galaxy can be put on hold for a while and she can just enjoy herself for a few more moments.

"Thanks for coming" she says, as they come together, palms up.

"I know this is not your normal element, but I'm glad I don't have to face it alone."