’Twas the year for festivities – and Makoto was among those present, garbed in what they hoped to be an appropriately formal suit. They didn’t really have the money set aside for anything fancy – but they at least wanted to fit in. And at their side, Tsukiko strutted, the icy fox being more than proud of the snow sculptures she had made outside.

Makoto couldn’t help a fond – but exasperated – sigh, patting Tsukiko on the head and murmuring ”You did wonderfully on those.”

Tsukiko, in response, would hold her head a little higher – tails swishing happily.

The décor, ranging from mistletoe to sparkling lights, is a dazzling sight – and it amazes Makoto just how much the Casino changes for any occasion. It’s like a complete transformation, one that fades at day’s end. And for a good while, Makoto can’t help but simply admire it as they leave their white elephant gift under the tree – not really having anyone to gravitate towards to mingle and socialize with.

Tempest Quinn was certainly an option, but… They admittedly felt a little shy and awkward about getting between what interactions he had going right now.

So, when a voice calls out offering drinks… They glance over to Steven Campbell, and approach – asking ”Do you happen to have anything non-alcoholic..?” They were interested in trying to make the most of this – but… The idea of being inebriated didn’t sound fun to them.

Tsukiko, all the while, was being quite the social Alolan Ninetales – nuzzling against his hip and swishing her tails in a friendly fashion. Makoto would gently nudge her away – murmuring ”Don’t trip him up.”

(She would briefly stick her tongue out at Makoto in a lighthearted retort.)

People come and go, grabbing drinks as they pleased, keeping conversation minimal. Parts of him appreciated it - he'd rather keep conversations minimal, especially with the more tipsy folk - but parts of him felt more of a coat hanger than man. A prop to add on display.

These thoughts were instantly settled the moment a certain beast swept by. Tall, dark, and without a lick of warmth, Zev Harcourt looked like one of those guys who wouldn't hesitate to slit your throat off of one wrong look.

Yeah, no thank you there. Someone else could keep that psycho company.

"Huh?"

Turning, a feminine voice snatched back his attention. He gave them a quick look before responding, a charismatic smile naturally slamming on display.

"The silver glasses are nonalcoholic, the gold glasses are alcoholic."

He gestured toward the plate in his hands with his eyes, noting each of the two colors and the secrets they held. Not even their ninetails could disrupt his concentration.

"Here our options are a sparkling red grape cocktail, or prosecco."

Switching the weight onto one hand, he slipped the other down to his side, giving the sociable ice type a quick pet.

The glasses and their contents glimmered in the christmas lights that hung above. Makoto nodded as Steven Campbell explained the difference in the glasses and the options – though they couldn’t help but wonder what a ‘prosecco’ was; they weren’t exactly a wine aficionado, but they also weren’t sure if they should ask. In such a fancy party, they almost felt as though they needed to blend in to some degree, even if they technically already belonged by virtue of being Rocket.

Some survival habits you just couldn’t break all that easily.

The quick pet seemed plenty enough to satisfy Tsukiko though, the fox giving his hand a quick lick in response before she returned to Makoto’s side, tails swishing as she watched the two of them talk. Everyone was drinking from funny-smelling glasses; what was in them, she briefly wondered, that was so interesting?

With a moment to weigh their options though, Makoto would decide to take a glass of prosecco – deciding to lean in that brief urge to be daring - and gave a gentle smile of their own in return. ”Thank you,” they spoke, taking a sip. The light fruity flavors proved to have been the right choice – though they weren’t fully sure how the other drink would’ve tasted.

Rather than move on thought, they’d glance out towards the rest of the party – commenting to Steve ”It feels like they always go all-out, for the parties hosted here.” No expenses spared, and the like – though they wouldn’t question the money put into it. They vaguely knew howard slayte had his part in this, and though they wouldn’t trust his personal financial decisions… He, at least, had a good head on his shoulders for other financial decisions.