She can never be confined to her own court. Her court means nothing to her, or at least she has nothing she feels like she needs to live by. In her heart, she has no king, no court, no need to make herself being a part of something that she is not. It is almost as if her court does not fit the beliefs she feels inside. She feels like a loner, like an outsider. And so, she travels to another, to see if she can find the knowledge she seeks.

What she comes upon is a party, something she admittedly has never attended before. While some are drawn to it, she is cautious and careful. She steps into the first room and she is met with the vision of never-ending tables, all filled with masks of every size, shape, and color. She settles on a mask that appears as a skull. It settles precisely over her own, a near perfect fit. It’s not covered in gold or bright colors, it’s plane. But it is perfect.

She passes by the tables of punches, her nose sniffing each and every one of them. They smell strange and something within her tells her that she should not drink the punch, no matter how much her parched throat might long for it. Instead she keeps walking, entering each room and observing them all.

But something catches her attention, something comes towards her. It’s the figure of another holding some punch. He looks a little off, perhaps he’s had a few too many drinks of the punch. Perhaps it was a good thing she chose not to drink the Kool-Aid. But he is now too close and she zips her head towards him, her words hiss from her lips in warning. “Watch where you’re walking. I have no intention of moving.” She’s standing there watching some sort of entertainment when he nearly touches her. Sloane is not one to be touched at all, so it’s no surprise she is alarmed by his close proximity.

@Eik

She cannot believe that this male was so careless! He was too busy drinking his beverage or looking at the many things around them to see that she was standing here, minding her own damn business. She was bothering no one and she certainly wasn’t in the way. She wasn’t quite on the dance floor but she was far enough away to not get run over, or so she thought.

Eyes looked at him, almost staring straight through him. Sloane had never been a people person, so it was no surprise that her ability to engage in social situations could be in need of practice. However, in order to get better, she actually had to engage with others…and that wasn’t something she liked to do. Oh well. She would simply be that grouchy bitch at the party – there seemed to always be one of those.

He seems genuinely sorry that he nearly bumped into her. “So he should be…” The thought had crossed her mind as she watches him nearly run over the vase in his attempt to not hit her. She eyes the vase and for a moment, she wishes it would have crashed to the floor. She is unsure why, though, because that would attract unnecessary attention in their direction and Sloane was always one to avoid attention on her.

He steps closer to her, offering her the cup he had been sipping from. She wants to curl her lip in a sneer, to let him know that she does not like drinking after someone else – especially a stranger. But she is trying not to be a super bitch tonight, so she says nothing about the fact that she does not swap spit with strangers. “Perhaps you’ve had too much.” In her time watching others tonight, she had seen how many had drank the punch and began to do silly things. Sloane has no experience with spiked drinks, but she can tell that they make others lose their inhibitions – doing and saying things they may not normally would have done or said. “What is it?” She’s genuinely curious about what exactly is in the cup. What about it makes people act so strange. Could she use it against her enemies? What purpose did it have? These were the questions that Sloane has…always needing to know everyone’s secrets.

@Eik

Sloane is a hard one to get to know, she has very few friends and she certainly isn’t one who makes them very easily. Sloane has always been an outsider, ever since she exited her mother’s womb she’s been on her own. No one has ever paid her any kindness, so she only sees it fitting that no one else be shown kindness either. Perhaps it is not the best way to live as it leaves her alone and bored much of her life. But what choice did she have? The world didn’t owe her a damn thing, so why would she do a simple kindness for the world?

She asks him what is in his cup as he offers it to her. She leans forward, letting her nose breathe in the contents. It burns her trachea and if she could curl her nose up at it, she would. It smelt harsh and she had a feeling it probably tasted much the same. His answer to her question was confirmation of that. It didn’t sound like a combination she might be willing to try.

He continues on, saying that the drink is magical and makes everything sound and feel better. She simply looks at him, curious if that was a feeling that she wanted to feel. If she were honest with herself, there had been times where she wished she could simply feel numb to the world, as though nothing bothered her. But then there was a part of her that feared that feeling. She might make a fool of herself and that was simply unacceptable.

Sloane is still weighing her options about drinking the mysterious drink when he makes a comment about someone being good. She’s only confused for a moment before she listens to the music playing in the background, the singer who’s demanding their attention. Eyes rest on the chestnut mare who’s voice is filling the hall. If she had been raised with even an ounce of love, she might have thought the singer beautiful. But unfortunately, Sloane had not been raised in such a loving environment. Anything that might seem good was only seen as nails on a chalkboard to her. “I suppose, if you actually liked and enjoyed singing.” Sloane was not a singer. Never was and most certainly never would be. She was the loner that no one really wanted to get to know. That was all her fault, mind you, but she didn’t care.

It was his second set of words that got her attention, her eyes resting on the half-full cup of alcohol. She pondered his offer to take a cup, her pondering probably taking far too long than socially acceptable. “Perhaps it’s best I didn’t.” She doesn’t necessarily mean to come off as rude, but she’s sure it does. “I don’t know if I want to turn into a blundering fool.” She pauses for a moment, an unnecessary pause. “Plus, you could have germs.” Sloane was not about to let herself get sick. She took great strides to maintain her health and she was not about to blow her carefulness for some cheap alcohol that could really be poison. “Or you might even poison me.” Sloane was never one to trust easily. Not everyone was out to try to kill her. Perhaps she should try to work on her people skills. Then again, this was just easier.

@Eik

Poison - sure, it was a coward’s way to kill another. And yet, Sloane rather liked the idea of poison. It wasn’t because she was a coward either. Poison was more subtle and easy to administer unprotected. If she was always killing people face to face, then they would know she was coming and what she was planning to do. At least with poison, she could kill and kill again and never be caught. It seemed logical and far less messy. “Or those wanting to stay beneath a veil of innocence. I have seen many a great assassin use poison so they can slip in and slip out undetected. It’s how they remain anonymous.” She had seen it time and time again. Perhaps they could just agree to disagree on how one should kill another.

She sighs as she looks out at the party, unsure of her true purpose here. She supposed she came to spy on others, to gain intel that she might be able to sell later to the highest bidder. But so far, all she had found was a bunch of drunk individuals that couldn’t walk or talk straight. She shook her head lightly, no, this was definitely not the place to be.

She turns briefly to look at the other, her eyes catching his for only the briefest of moments. “This place is positively boring.” The music was already beginning to sound like nails on a chalkboard. And without any sort of proper goodbye, Sloane walkd away from the crowd and towards the exit. This was not the place for her.

@Eik - closing this one too, Sloane is not a social butterfly D: