Evelyn Foster sighed and took the chauffeur's proffered hand, as she assumed was proper. Stupid nobles with their stupid courtesy. As she stood she saw Austin Goodmen come rushing out of the front door with a look that suggested he forgot something..
She knew what he forgot. She began heading his way when he noticed her and started rushing over. As he caught up with her, a few feet from the black car that had brought her there, he scratched the back of his head and a silly grin appeared on his face. The indecency made her grimace on the inside. Austin held his hand out to her as he said; "Sorry, I completely forgot you were coming! Thankfully the driver was able to pick you up."
She gave him a dull glare. "You forgot to pay him before sending him off to get me. Moron." Austin looked shocked for a few seconds, then had that guilty look when someone just did something stupid and got caught. "Uhh, umm.. Sorry..."
"Coming out of your pocket.." She turned a bit and held her arm out to the side. Austin didn't quite seem to know what to do for a moment, then hesitantly slid his arm through hers for the proper escorting pose. She said, softly, "If you're going to make me come to this bloody thing, at least act like you fit in here. Hell, you fit in more than I do, but I'm the one who feels like she's escorting the bumbling fool... And I think I'm going to kill you for making me wear this damn thing." By that she referred to the black and red dress he had sent along with the car. Being what she was, a mercenary born to a Junker, dresses weren't what she was used to wearing, let alone owning one.. She felt decidedly uncomfortable in the formal clothing, especially once that made her look like a half-empty, walking wine bottle...
He didn't respond as he led her up the steps and into the building, which turned out to be crowded with extravagantly-dressed men and women with a haughty air about them. Her insecure feelings over her own clothing faded away as she saw how some people were dressed in such excessively complex and overdone dresses and suits that they bordered on what she would call 'fairyland outfits'. The riot of colors being swished around as people moved and gestured was so hideously obnoxious that it was painful.
Why the hell did I agree to do this?
As she looked around, the only person she did recognize was Liberty's Fleet Admiral Hale, whom she had only met sporadically while doing work for the Navy. At least there is no sign of Ms. Princess yet.. I'm not sure I'm quite ready to start working yet..