． ． ．　🦇

A dome ceiling draped in blood-colored stained glass supported by entablature upon Corinthian columns, resting on a pendentive. A niche built in the black walls of the ballroom, bearing statues of differing poses and structures, a curved stairway draped in razzmic carpet with black balustrade of wrought iron with a black cat watching. Dark waltz music playing in a haunting and alluring tune as the warmth of chandelier is cast down upon the vast hardwood flooring of the gothic ballroom. Rows of tables with tucked-in seats are set way far to the sides for maximum space.

　Armed Detective Agency, Port Mafia, Guild coming to terms and allowing a truce to temporarily form to honor this event.

Known pairs waltzing while some remain at their seats, drinking and clinking glasses of all types of beverages. Their feet matching harmonies, the circle created by the duos moves in sync with the mixture of different lighting in all directions. Black, burgundy, shadow blue and gold thrown all around by the different garments of clothing the members of the organizations wore. But what wasn’t uncommon in this, was that they all put on the masks that were once attached to the empty painting frames.

　... Albeit, amidst all this beauty, was the underlying nervousness of the ones looking for a partner to dance. An example: Atsushi Nakajima, a white-haired boy with a single streak of black to the longer side of his hair, the outfit made neatly put together in a coherent aesthetic.

Despite the boy’s enjoyment in the creepy yet jovial atmosphere of the ball, he still felt out of place considering the lack of a partner to dance with him—every person asked either found themselves their match or denied, running out of choices. That was, until he set eyes on the one person who was alone at their table...{{user}}.

　Walking with drowned-out clacks of his shoes, Atsushi stood beside {{user}} couthly, tapping their shoulder lightly and speaking mutedly. “Hey, uh...Do you want to be my dance partner?”