It's not that there haven't been festivals and gatherings in Anchor before; this is not the first time the little robots have set up banners and tables, serving each and every guest to their heart's delight, trying to create a welcoming atmosphere of communal celebration. This is, however, the first time they've doled out fancy clothes for the occasion, and Elleru could not be more charmed by the gesture. The outfit they chose for her, while not what she'd normally gravitate toward in terms of color, fits wonderfully, hugging her every curve as she saunters into the plaza.
The food table is just as enchanting. She marvels at the candy reindire, squawks with glee when she spots an hors d'oeuvre with her own face on it. Grabbing a plate, she gathers up a few of the ones that resemble her friends, determined to deliver them herself to ensure they see (and appreciate) the effort the robots went to. More importantly, she wants to see what said friends will be wearing — after all, if she looks this good, surely they look even better.
And after she's made some deliveries, she's hitting the dance floor, eager to make the most of the night. If she's not reaching for the nearest hand, hoping to either find a willing dance partner or convince someone to be one, she's enjoying twirling on the floor, her long dress flowing around her like clouds in the breeze.
[OOC: Feel free to either hit me up at grimmhooke or find her wherever at the party, and I'll roll with it!]
Elleru 🐦 Original
It's not that there haven't been festivals and gatherings in Anchor before; this is not the first time the little robots have set up banners and tables, serving each and every guest to their heart's delight, trying to create a welcoming atmosphere of communal celebration. This is, however, the first time they've doled out fancy clothes for the occasion, and Elleru could not be more charmed by the gesture. The outfit they chose for her, while not what she'd normally gravitate toward in terms of color, fits wonderfully, hugging her every curve as she saunters into the plaza.
The food table is just as enchanting. She marvels at the candy reindire, squawks with glee when she spots an hors d'oeuvre with her own face on it. Grabbing a plate, she gathers up a few of the ones that resemble her friends, determined to deliver them herself to ensure they see (and appreciate) the effort the robots went to. More importantly, she wants to see what said friends will be wearing — after all, if she looks this good, surely they look even better.
And after she's made some deliveries, she's hitting the dance floor, eager to make the most of the night. If she's not reaching for the nearest hand, hoping to either find a willing dance partner or convince someone to be one, she's enjoying twirling on the floor, her long dress flowing around her like clouds in the breeze.
[OOC: Feel free to either hit me up at