His Shedinja is the first to regard the mysterious woman as she approaches. When she asks her question, the masked man turns to face her. The anonymity keeps the irony of her wording hidden.

"It's impressive," He responds, eyes taking a moment to appreciate her beauty as well. "Nearly as impressive as yours." He adds with a debonair smile.

WINTER MASQUERADE
PRIMAL CRYSTAL EXHIBIT
illeana reyes

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]Seeing her attempts to get the dark-haired woman in the black-and-gold mask to spontaneously smile and relax in her photos falling flat, Aurelie mentally sighed and did her best to let it go. Even in her tipsy state, she knew her jokes hadn't been exactly the height of comedy, and coming in a seemingly nonstop barrage from a complete stranger, she supposed they could get somewhat tiresome. Still, Aurelie had hoped the dark-haired woman would at least roll her eyes and chuckle at the silliness of her puns, not stiffen up and ignore them altogether.

Oh well, at least her photos had turned out well, and the Galarian crown exhibit had been interesting to see. Aurelie did wonder why the dark-haired woman hadn't simply said goodbye after thanking her for the photos, unconsciously echoing the thoughts in the other woman's head. As the dark-haired woman politely informed her that she worked in hotel marketing, Aurelie told herself, Maybe next time, just stick to complimenting pretty girls instead of insisting on telling them bad dad jokes. And also, maybe don't drink so much champagne on an empty stomach.

Right on cue, Aurelie's stomach gave a deep, unmannerly rumble of hunger. "Ugh, so sorry about that," she exclaimed in dismay, flushing and smiling apologetically. "I'm just full of faux pas tonight, I'm afraid."

Fortuitously, the announcement that the Insectarium area was opening up rang through the air, and a bell chimed to announce the start of the dining hour. A look of relief suffused Aurelie's masked features, and she struggled not to drool a little as rich, savory smells of sumptuous food started drifting from the doors of the glass-paneled Insectarium. Her stomach emitted another loud growl, and she turned back to the dark-haired woman in the black-and-gold mask with a chuckle.

"Well, it was very nice to meet you, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening at the ball. Au revoir, and hopefully your social media followers enjoy playing the game of 'Who Shone Brighter?' when they see your photos," Aurelie said lightly, preparing to take her leave.

Bowing slightly at the waist, she rapidly turned and headed toward the magnificent glass-paneled edifice of the Insectarium, strung with shimmering lights that twinkled in counterpoint to the star-strewn night sky overhead and arranged with dining tables immaculately draped in snowy white tablecloths. The air within was moist and sweet, redolent of myriad piercingly fragrant night-blooming flowers, and petals and Butterfrees, Beautiflies, Masquerains, and Vivillons alike floated languorously past. Aurelie caught her breath at the wondrous sight, once more feeling profoundly moved and inspired by the exquisite taste and elegance that characterized so much of this masquerade ball.

But she dared not stand still and bask in the beauty for too long, lest her stomach start complaining even more loudly than ever. Hastily, Aurelie took a seat at one of the large, round dining tables and raised a hand slightly, trying to catch a passing waiter's eye. To her infinite gratitude, one approached her quickly and presented her with a menu.

"Oh Arceus, this all sounds delicious," Aurelie remarked aloud, quickly scanning the menu. "I almost can't decide what to choose! Unless I can choose to eat everything...?"

Ducking his head to hide a smile, the waiter courteously shook his head no. "Ah, too bad," Aurelie sighed in mock-disappointment. "Hmm, well, in that case…"

She pondered for a moment, before quickly rattling off an order for the Kalosian onion soup, arugula and watercress salad, and medium rare steak with mashed potatoes, roast vegetables, and sherry reduction sauce. The waiter took her order, bowed, and departed, promising to have her food ready soon.

Alone at her table, Aurelie pondered the menu in front of her a moment longer. She had to admit, it gave her an odd little feeling to see so many Pokemon-based dishes on offer, even if it was generally a common thing for most restaurants and cafes to serve. It is amazing what uses we can put Pokemon to, isn't it? Whether they're dead or alive, she thought a little bleakly. As her mind lingered on the thought of Pokemon corpses—and in particular, the memory of Steel-type shells piled atop each other—she watched idly as partygoers moved to and from the ballroom and Insectarium. For no reason that she could name, Aurelie's gaze fixated particularly on an oddly familiar figure with brilliant white hair beneath an elaborately gilded and horned mask, wandering—or perhaps dancing—in the ballroom.

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","thadmain"]“Oh, of course. Mi comida es su comida and all that.” She has flashes of nights spent canoodling over way too much Chinese food because they thought everything sounded good and, of course, everything was for sharing. And if there was something ordered that one half didn’t like the other would hop in to defend them-- er, finish it. Generally for Cyg it was Isaac’s drinks and for Isaac it was weird textured foods that made her brain make angry walky-talky screeches.

The Bug Space is cultivated to look artfully messy, twisty with fallen branches and moss-slimed rocks, and even a little artificial river, slightly murky and running sluggishly in the warm, humid air.

Cyg crinkles her nose. “Parsnip tastes like drywall paste,” she says, “and I think you should get the pasta.” Risotto was another one of those foods that texturally made her brain backfire static.

Isaac floats the release of energy as a concept for the creation of the glowing modesty filter and Cyg hums in agreement. “Yeah, but… what makes the energy… stop? Why doesn’t it camera flash out and blind us all? Who decided the glow level is dying star ten to the one-hundreth space miles away?” she realizes she’s getting stupid metaphysical in her slight inebriation, so she grins instead and says: “Watson’s just a baby. He will always be baby. Even when he's sixteen feet tall with teeth longer than my arm.”

Someone sits down at the table with them and Cyg raises her eyebrows. He had nice hair.

“But does the potential… go away?” she asked, returning to the metaphysical. “Energy is a gradient. It flows from high to low. It cannot be created or destroyed. Does it recycle?” She draws two C-shapes folding in on one another in the air with her fingers to signify her image of the energy reverbing back on itself, then snorts because it looks like she’s just drawn boobs in the air.

“Real deep thoughts hours. Sorry, I’m hungry.”

[attr="class","thadpoke"]