I don't know why I'm here [Reville]

[Ryugexu]

"I don't know why I'm here. This... this commoner event is bound to be dreadful!" Reville scoffed, complaining to the driver of his limo as they stopped. "I don't even really know anyone at this event!"

"Well, young master," the driver said, "your father believes it will help you connect more to the people whose fates you will someday control as a symbol of the country."

"I don't WANT to be a symbol of the country." Reville whined like a child. "I just want to be... left alone. I'm tired of all these stupid PR events!"

"We've arrived, sir." the driver parked the car and got out to open Reville's door and assist him in stepping out of it safely. Reville tapped his cane against the ground. "Cobblestone. I hate cobblestone." he complained, "fine. If my parents want me to attend and play nice, I GUESS I will try."

"That's the spirit, young master." The driver said, "I'll return in a few hours to retrieve you."

Reville listened to the car leaving, and headed towards the gardens. "At least it will smell nice here." he grumbled, finding a stone bench near some rosebushes to sit at.

He was dressed rather fine. His suit reflected a more old-fashion type of class with shiny threads and fancy buttons. After a few moments, he seemed at-ease here in the gardens.

[ElliBleu]

Trynx stared sightlessly at her reflection in the rippling waters of the fountain, perfectly painted cupid’s-bow lips curving into a pretty grin as she looked into her glassy sea-green eyes. She blinked several seconds before she saw her reflection do the same, the off-timing of her non-physical sight lagging a bit tonight. For the better, she supposed, to be a bit behind than a bit ahead. It always seemed to unnerve company when the blind woman reacted to visual stimuli before it occurred. Looking up to someone before they were to speak or moving to catch a falling object when it hadn’t yet toppled were well and good when she was trying to impress clients, but not so ideal when she was merely trying to be social.
Lingering a moment longer, she raised pale hands to rearrange her long aqua hair about her shoulders, slowly primping the wavy strands until her lagging clairvoyant-sight showed her success. The woman took pride in her pretty face and shiny baubles.

With her blind eyes half-lidded under heavy dark lashes she rose to her feet, an absent grin on her face as she paced down the winding cobblestones of the garden, moving slow to give herself time to ‘sight’ any obstacles that might pose problematic to her soft-soled slippers. Layers of tulle and heavy petticoats swished against her legs beneath the black ballgown, the rustle of the fabric and the occasional jingle of earrings and necklace the only noise in the quiet garden.

And so the seer wandered aimlessly for some time, walking a different path with her feet than she saw with her dead eyes. She took every turn without regard for the small pang of could-be’s that weighed heavy on her for even on such little decisions, merely taking womanly delight in enjoying the opportunity to be so finely dressed and in such surroundings. Another grin tugged her lips at the errant thought, happy to know the loss of her physical eyesight had only increased her vanity.

She was idly trailing her fingers through the leaves of a row of rosebushes while humming something low and sweet to herself, when she stumbled upon the young man, a full three steps into the clearing before her clairvoyance caught up to her present surroundings. She gaped at him a moment, unblinking and still for a long stretch of seconds as she rounded off her little tune and dipped her chin respectfully. Her eyes kept straight ahead, though her vision focused briefly on his superbly fine clothing, and the cane loose in his grasp. Chance was a funny thing, really, leading her on to another blind man wandering the gardens.

“Hello, my good sir,” she chirped, straightening and clasping her hands together at her waist. “Welcome to the ball. I am glad to see another enjoying the lovely night.”