[No matter how many of the things different universes seem bizarrely determined to force him into, Wolfwood stubbornly remains not one for fancy parties. He is here, in case any dragons or evil fae or whatever turn up. But he is wearing the fancy coat that was forced on him when he arrived (a butler type had not let him any farther without meeting the dress code) under distinct protest. There's lace on the hems. He hates it.
Inside, he says hi to a few people and picks up a drink, hanging around the edges of the ballroom for a while before slipping outside. That's probably the better place to watch for danger, anyway. It's a lot quieter out on the patio.
He frowns, pausing in the middle of pulling out a cigarette. There's something almost...familiar about how the garden surrounds this space.]
awkward garden party, Camelot edition
Inside, he says hi to a few people and picks up a drink, hanging around the edges of the ballroom for a while before slipping outside. That's probably the better place to watch for danger, anyway. It's a lot quieter out on the patio.
He frowns, pausing in the middle of pulling out a cigarette. There's something almost...familiar about how the garden surrounds this space.]
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