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He wasn't really the dancing type. He wasn't really the ball-going type either, so Derek was startled when Dorcas said she wanted to go, because she hadn't struck him as being the ball-going type either. But Derek always thought that, deep down, Dorcas was actually incredibly girlish, she just didn't know what to do with it sometimes.

It was part of the reason he stuck around. He liked the mystery.

But she was off socializing with someone or other, and Derek had begged off the dance floor and was making his way to a safe haven from crazed dancers.

As he drew closer to the edge of the room, it was quite clear that there were many others who had the same idea as he, and of the chairs that were scattered along the edge of the room, there were few vacant seats. There were a few unsavory-looking people who Derek would rather not have sat by, but there was one open seat in the vicinity of a blond with incredibly bright hair and an intricate, shining mask.

Derek was nearly positive that he knew whose face that was, by the automatic clenching of his jaw. He didn't think it was impossible for them to have crossed paths, but he had been hoping they wouldn't. Or maybe Derek had been hoping they would, because he was also itching to give her a piece of his mind.

But he also didn't much feel like giving in and insulting her so greatly with his speech.

Fine. That was fine. Derek would just sit next to her and ignore her, as per her request. If she was like half the people here, anyway, she wouldn't have a clue as to who he was with his mask on. His cape swept out behind him as he sauntered towards the chair and seated himself.