Henry and Raelle
Raelle was in a stylish suit that flattered her and a matching black mask. This wasn't her normal sort of thing, but someone from work had asked her to come along and she had agreed - so here she was. This sort of thing reminded her of the parties they had occasionally at Fort Salem. Of course, it was usually just witches of both genders and not such a mix, but this was a bit less pressure since there'd be no expectation to find a man to sleep with. Since she had no interest in men, that especially worked for her.
She was standing there holding a flute of champagne when someone bumped into her. Her glass spilled on her and the perpetrator offered a weak sorry before scurrying off. Left wet now, she held out her arms like that was somehow going to help while she looked around for napkins or something.