xxxxxP E T R A x M A X I M O F F x • x h e x x // x b22222 x •
"I'm Wynne Worthington." Regardless of her intentions, she had a warm smile, and Petra admired the way her expression never faltered even at Tobias's dry remark - though she thought she could hear faint screaming coming from somewhere in the general direction of Wynne's mind.
Petra reached out past Tobias to shake her hand just as he signalled a waiter for more champagne. "I'm Petra Maximoff. It's good to have you join us." Well, not really, but a little bit of diplomacy never hurt anyone. Besides, Petra admitted reluctantly to herself, there wasn't any point in making an enemy of the UN agent before her agenda was clear.
"Hey Red - Petra."
A different voice caught her attention, and she turned away from Tobias and Wynne to face Ross, her face lighting up almost immediately. Gods, but he looked good, even as nervous as he clearly was. She had to resist laughing at his expression, as comical as it was he was trying, and that counted for rather a lot in her book.
"You, uh... Ya look really beautiful," he continued, and this time it was Petra's turn to colour at the compliment, her face heating up. "Thank you. You look great, too," she returned, her voice steady. "Green is a good colour on you."
He didn't seem to respond, instead continuing, "Would ya like a drink? Wait, you have a drink. Actually... Ey was wondering if you'd like to dance?"
Oh. So that was what this was about. Petra paused for a moment to recollect herself. She was slipping - her mental barriers were weakening again, she could hear voices more clearly this time. Tonight was not the night to get a headache listening to a roomful of thoughts, so she reinforced the barriers and finished the little bit of champagne left in her glass, returning it to a passing waiter. "I would love to dance. But before that..." She reached up, tugging at his tie, straightening it. A whole ballroom's worth of people with international standing and he was going to walk around with his tie askew?... Not on her watch.
At least that's what she told herself.
"Don't you have any mirrors?" she teased once she was done, her fingers stilling at Ross's collar for a moment. "Now about that dance you asked for..." She took his hand and let him lead her onto the floor, casting one last glance back towards Tobias and Wynne. He looked fine, so she sent him a little telepathic reassurance - I'll be right there - and turned away, pulling her partner into an easy waltz. "How are you finding the party so far?"
xxxxxR I L E Y x B A R T O N x • x h e x x // x 7a378b x •
Riley resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his friend, then thought better of it and graced Ross with the best "I'm-not-amused-you-little-shit" expression he could muster. "You threatened to throw up when you entered the hall and absolutely lost your bloody mind at the sight of pretty girls... I think my judgement is marginally better than yours right now." He mock-scowled at Ross as he passed, although he did mutter a low "Good luck," as Ross headed towards the orchestra.
Straight people can be so nuts sometimes.
Alone now, Riley sank into the vacated chair and looked around for someone else he could join. The feeling of being watched by multiple pairs of judging eyes was creeping up his back again, and maybe being with someone friendly could convince his anxiety to back off. Maybe Frankie - no, she was talking to Nathaniel. And he'd just asked her for a dance. Riley smiled fondly at her departing back, feeling a little like a proud parent watching his kid go to prom. Who am I kidding, I'll never get a chance to have kids and send them to high school. Who was gonna stop him from living through his friends?
"I don't suppose this seat is taken?" A voice sounded somewhere above Riley's head, and he looked up to see a man, probably not that much older than him, hand resting on the empty chair by Riley's side. "Uh, no, go ahead." He watched, slightly bewildered, as the man - clearly another UN representative - pulled the chair out and slid in beside Riley, setting a glass of wine down to run his hands through his blond hair. "This is some party, huh?" I'm Solberg, I'm with the -" here he chuckled and gestured over his shoulder noncommittally, "the UN, but you probably knew that. You students don't get much action like this, huh? Everyone's so wound up." He met Riley's gaze, suddenly alarmed and earnest at once. "But look at my manners! I haven't given you a chance to introduce yourself!"
To say Riley was confused was perhaps something of an understatement - he'd never met anyone like Solberg before, and he did not fit the expected mould of a UN representative. Although he did seem genuinely friendly.
"Riley, Riley Barton," he managed, reaching over to shake Solberg's hand. "It's, uh, it's good to have you at the Academy tonight, Mr Solberg."
"Oh, look at the boy quaking in his nice suit!" the official laughed, letting go of Riley's hand to clasp his shoulder. "You can dispense with the formalities, just Sol is fine. You're Hawkeye's kid, aren't you?"
Riley nodded, settling back into his seat, trying to get comfortable. It might end up being a very long night.
xW Y N N E x W O R T H I N G T O N x • x h e x x // x 6e6e6e x •
He could, however, help the side he chose to take, and this thought steeled Wynne's resolve again. She had to make sure he didn't side with his father, and if he did she had to find a way to negate the damage that could be caused.
So she kept her smile steady, not faltering at his offhand remark even as she tried not to flip at the idiot sentence she'd chosen as her opening. Petra was a touch friendlier than Tobias, and Wynne was sorry to see her attention pulled away by Ross McCulloch. Perhaps she might get to know then a little better later, but for now she didn't comment as they left, turning her attention back to Tobias.
Accepting the champagne with murmured thanks, Wynne raised her glass to mirror Tobias's, tilting it towards him in an effort to be less rigid. "Please. Just Wynne will do."
She adjusted her stance, shifting her weight onto one leg. It hadn't been that long since she'd interacted socially with people her age, but she hadn't the faintest idea what to do to endear herself to a school full of mutants who likely thought she was as much a blood traitor as Tobias's father considered her to be.
"So, Tobias. I don't know if you've ever been the new kid - goodness knows I've been that person too many times - but each school has its own culture, and though I might not have the chance to fit in fully given my short time here I thought it'd be nice to hear from a student. What's the Academy like? Do you like it? What do you guys do?"
xxxxxxxxxJ E N S E N x J O N E S x • x h e x x // x 2b4f81 x •
A freshly refilled glass slid over by Jensen's arm as soon as she'd finished her drink, courtesy of Alec. "Thank you," she said absently, still looking around the hall. Some of these people she could still recognise, given that they didn't look all that different from usual - Petra Maximoff was about as fancy as she usually was, she'd probably wear that dress to brunch if the opportunity arose - but some of her classmates looked completely different. Like Thaleia Castle. Hot damn! Jensen didn't know she had that much gorgeous in her. To be fair, she and Wren themselves weren't all that beauty queen material anyway - yet here they were.
"You know I do believe you need to make up dragging me over here..." Jensen turned just in time to meet Alec's eyes, noting his smile that never could mean anything good was coming. "I just wonder what it could possibly be to satisfy my appetite for the evening."
"Just drink your alcohol and don't get any weird ideas," Jensen grumbled. I should've expected he'd have some nonsense up his sleeve, she couldn't help thinking fondly. A party wasn't a party without Alec trying to get a rise out of someone.
As it turned out, Alec didn't need to get any ideas, the music provided him with all he needed. Jensen realised her mistake in not leaving the moment the music changed, taking on a livelier tone, and Alec turned to her, affecting a bow. "Jensen Jones, will you do me the honour of accompanying me to the dance floor? After all, what better way to show off how ravishing you look tonight?"
"You're mocking me, Alec Constantine," Jensen scoffed, aiming a well-placed kick at his shin, not hard enough to do any real damage - didn't need any broken bones, not at the gala - but enough to hurt, at least for a few moments. She took his hand anyway, moving towards the floor a little reluctantly. She didn't know how to dance, and was loath to make a fool of herself trying to, especially here. "I hope you know how to dance, because I don't. And for your information, that bow was the stupidest thing I've seen in a while, aside from your face." She couldn't resist.