I'm not sure about this...

[Poison had braved the dress which had been laid out for her and had put her hair up before venturing to this event, but she doesn't look entirely comfortable with any of it. Not even a little comfortable, in fact. She doesn't recall the last time she put on a dress, and she's certainly never worn one like this.

She hangs back at the top of the red carpet, looking for someone familiar to walk down with. Never normally afraid of anything, she doesn't much like the idea of all that attention being on her all at once.]

Maybe I should just... go...

[Eventually, she finds her way inside and at least she doesn't feel out of place in here with the dress she has on. Everyone else looks dressed to the nines as well, and she settles into the swing of things with the air of someone who doesn't quite fit in but is certainly doing their best.

She hovers at the edge of the tent, her back almost to the wall, and barely-smiles at anyone who happens to look her way.

Poison does try the food, though, putting small portions of the things she finds interesting on her plate and peering at those things that look a bit too interesting for her to try on an empty stomach.]

What do you suppose that is? [She asks the person beside her, indicating a bowl of worm-like things which...

are they moving????]

[The photograph on the cake looks familiar. Poison takes a photo of it before anyone can cut into it, and tucks her phone back into her bag.]

That looks like Joe.

[Joe, if he didn't have that creepy parasite in his eye. If he was younger. She looks around -- is he here?]

... What is this party for?

[After the light show, the young woman isn't interested in dancing. She's interested in that very significant number written across the dome. She frowns at it, clenching her fists loosely beside her, and it's only the 'gentle encouragement' of one of the bots that keeps her from leaving as the music begins to pick up.

So she doesn't leave, but instead stays seated with a thoughtful expression on her face, occasionally fidgeting with a drink on the table. When she senses someone lingering by her, she doesn't look up, but speaks--]

I don't dance. Ask someone else.