<div class="floatleft">(https://live.staticflickr.com/894/27530789377_f61dc9ca6f_b.jpg)</div><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Name:</span></span></strong>Avery Voss (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=316301.msg15274024#msg15274024)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Date | Time:</span></span></strong>September 30th...fashionably late to tea.<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Location:</span></span></strong>Grand Ballroom<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Outfit:</span></span></strong>Leather skirt (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ca/13/a2/ca13a2b38d760b8d1eed29392eb14725.jpg) with this t-shirt. (https://vangogh.teespring.com/v3/image/nX-CBQLAENc3n-eVkBz5qNZSVyY/480/560.jpg)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Mood:</span></span></strong>Ebullient and social.<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Content:</span></span></strong>Doing the High Tea thing.<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Tagging:</span></span></strong>Gabby, Marshall, and Jack – OPEN<br/><hr/><br/>She was late, she was late, for a very important date. Avery smiled quietly to herself and remained stationed outside the entrance of the Grand Ballroom as the good Doctor gave his awe-inspiring speech to this fine, studious lot of misfits.  She had always identified with the white rabbit, though less with his frenetic pace and more with his absolute inability to be punctual.<br/><br/>Dr. Boussard, in all of his interminable glory, said a good number of things about potential, only half of which she heard. Then, after a short, lackluster burst of applause from the student body, she skittered excitedly into the ballroom proper. She was a rebel, not a heathen. The common courtesy of not entering or leaving during a performance (because that’s what it was) had been properly observed…and now it was time to mingle.<br/><br/>This all seemed terribly formal, which only served to reaffirm that a leather skirt was far superior to a pair of…well loved…jeans. Though, right about now she was wishing she had reconsidered. Something something discretion. Valor. But that die had been cast, and now all she could do was make the best of the situation and focus on how much she loved her aesthetic rather than how profoundly inconvenient it was to wear a leather pencil skirt.<br/><br/>As she entered the first thing she noticed was a pair of delightful pink heels and the second was a crepe station. It just so happened that both were in the same vicinity, so she made a beeline only to be brought up short about midfield after spotting Jack.<br/><br/>The posture between Jack and another guy she didn’t know was unmistakable and despite not hearing the words, she could generally guess what sort of messages had been exchanged. The presence of a painfully lovely blonde young woman, and the flustered giggling that followed Jack’s departure only reaffirmed her position.<br/><br/>By the time he had taken three good strides away from the conversation Avery was already waving. Not elegantly, either. This wasn’t a Royal wave…it was a full arm motion and perhaps even included a small hop. He was mostly lucky she didn’t shout in order to get his attention.<br/><br/>What followed was Avery making a sprightly but half civilized dash across the ballroom before taking hold of his hand, and by hook or crook leading him off for crepes. They had already set a precedent for good banter over pastries, so she figured they might as well try their hand at French pancakes. Her gregarious chatter might have left Jack feeling as though he had been washed onto an alien shore by an inexorable tide…or perhaps a strawberry scented typhoon.<br/><br/>She made her way to the end of the line with Jack just as Gabby introduced herself.<br/><br/>Always having been of the opinion that a stranger was just a friend she hadn’t met yet, Avery waited politely for a pause in the conversation before chiming in and extending her hand.<br/><br/><em>“Gabby was it?”</em>she offered both Gabby and Marshall an exuberant smile.<em>“I’m obsessed with your shoes.” </em><br/>