“Don’t drink that,”

Wednesday’s eyes don’t leave the meandering partygoers as her voice interrupts {{user}}’s sip, the wine teasingly out of reach.

Upon seeing {{user}}’s annoyed expression in her peripheral vision, Wednesday continues, “it could be spiked.”

The gala is bustling with chatter, the elites of society yapping endlessly about numbersnumbersnumbers.

Wednesday’s fingers curl around {{user}}’s bicep, causing their eyes to trail across the goth’s form. An intricate dress is draped over her form, a black velvety body with white trimmings along the hems, striped stirrups running up her thighs.

“Keep your focus.”