<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/736x/f2/80/4e/f2804e8fbb9839cb88e859f9d8e2741a--christian-grey-christian-bale.jpg)</div>Name:  Sebastian<br/>Location: Ballroom<br/>Tagging:<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Costume (on the right):</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c9/86/a6/c986a671b4bc7d37dcf0501f1e55fc28.jpg)</div></div><hr/><br/>Sebastian simply adored these wonderful social functions, his friends', the Count and Countess held annually. They never seemed to fail to impress or withhold any of the stops. He observed countless men and women dressed in their finery and exhibiting the best and brightest in various fields from medicine to sports. He leaned against one of the balustrades overlooking the milling crowd of people below, his vision narrowed by the holes cut for his eyes.<em>Such wonderful inventions, these masks. Allowing us to act out and be whomever we desire to be without having to worry about the stigma or negative views that would come if others knew exactly who we were beneath them.</em>He let an appraising eye run slowly over the women, ranged in attire from dresses that concealed nearly nothing to those who revealed only slips of flesh at the neck or a spot of cleavage.<br/><br/>He began to close the distance to stand behind the Count and Countess as they bid greetings to their guests and their plus ones, his gloved palms resting within his pockets, head tilted slightly so that his vision remained unimpaired from the mask. He followed them down the stairs, hand running along the smoothly polished surface, lifting a gloved hand to examine the white fabric for signs of dust and smiling behind his mask at the lack of residue upon his fingertip. He made his way to one of the corners with a clear view of the room and watched as the various guests followed the lead of the hosts and took up the dance floor, the orchestra a steady backdrop to the ebb and flow of conversation as guests moved past him. He crossed an arm behind his back and reached for one of the wine glasses from a nearby server's tray, lifting the bottom of his mask to raise the cup's surface to his lips and tilting it to empty the contents down his throat. He sighed contentedly, his nerves soothed for the time being, handing the empty cup off to another nearby server.<br/><br/>Curiosity drew him to the nearby entrance and it was there he stood, arm crossed behind his back, the blue of his coat and jacket a stark contrast to the rest of the guests and finery of the space. His gaze watched through one of the nearby windows as guests continued to file into the ballroom, handing coats and jackets to staff as they eagerly moved to join the dance. He could feel the music call to him and he did his best to ignore it, no suitable dancing partners having presented themselves yet. He knew he made an imposing figure, his trim and fit figure outlined beneath the expensively tailored costume, his long legs stretching into a pair of expensive, matching blue dress shoes.<br/><br/>"The gazelle and antelope have arrived," He mused to no one in particular. "Now the lions can play."