This was not really her sort of thing. She had not intended to go, but the silence in the blocks was overwhelming in that way that unoccupied places that were usually crowded tended to be. So she had gotten dressed, long hair left loose, black silk clinging to her slender form, and had made her way barefoot down to the ballroom. She preferred going without shoes whenever possible, feeling the grass at her feet, the sand between her toes, feeling the earth reach for her as gravity pressed her to it.
Caramel cream skin brushed with a hint of shimmer just enough to make her gleam golden by dim lighting, or within the moonlight. She paused for a moment to watch mutant children wearing dresses run by, squealing and laughing. Children were children no matter what their environment was. A faint hint of a smile tugged at one corner of her mouth but was gone before it seemed more than the flicker of a shadow. She folded her hands before her, and lifted her head, looking towards the strains of violin coming from somewhere else. Lovely, but then, she was accustomed to such differences. Often they would old small parties such as this on nights the Master held his formal balls, unless one was accompanying him or a guest, or serving at the party, one was not permitted within.
Familiarity, they say, breeds contempt, but for her it was comfort. Slim comfort it may be, but comfort all the same. Her steps continued to wend towards the party, the streamers and punch bowls, simple and yet, it had it's own charm, certainly. She slid away from the door, pressed her back against the wall and attempted to blend in with the decor, becoming as she usually did, little more than decoration herself.