Lyra could bullshit 'bout the flavour of beer as easily and inaccurately as she could 'bout the flavour of wine, bullshit being a much more interesting thing to say than just an oh yeah, that's good, though it was, good, and even listening to Sameth explain to a few of the others gathered round in the kitchen about his hops was pretty interesting but there was just so much else round her to take in. And more people to see! A couple of other semi-regulars had spotted her arrival and she wrapped them both up in a hug, Lei even picking her up off the floor for a moment in a delightful spin. Lyra could see Soledad across the room, where – Avery'd been right – she was sitting on the bar of a trapeze. It wasn't super high, but she was feet above everyone else, swinging a little back and forth, and oh holy shit Lyra was gonna hang upside-down from that later. Then a man full-on dressed as a wolf walked past, his wolf-head hanging down his back, tongue lolling out past its teeth.
They lost Mackenzie, and Lyra didn't spot her again till she'd finished her beer and was exploring the rest of the room, Avery's hand in hers as she jumped from group to group, sharing snippets of stories and in-jokes and wishes for the year to come. In one corner, all the soft furniture had been pushed together, couches pressed right up close so there was no gap between them, bean bags and blankets and people lounging on each other, some lying side by side across the cushions, others straddling the sofa backs or perched on the arms. There was another pile of five or six people – it was hard to tell – with Mackenzie in the middle, and if Avery hadn't been there Lyra woulda dived right in, but squashing in with a buncha strangers? Would Avery? Maybe not, at least, maybe not yet. Maybe she could talk him into relaxing enough, enjoying himself enough, that he'd give anything a go, even a group cuddle. Oh – and then Mackenzie was kissing one of the other women, her hand on someone else's thigh, and Lyra thought, maybe not. She didn't think she was opposed to sharing party kisses in theory, but the thought of watching Avery kiss anyone else was a cold knife of fear in her stomach. So like... maybe not with the couch cuddle pile, right now.
In another corner, Fern was dancing, and Lyra paused to watch for a moment, nursing a drink, captivated. The images that were projected onto the sheets also washed over the people dancing, and turned Fern's white dress into a work of art. Fern had always struck Lyra as a bit vague, but here in her own place everything – the white dress especially – seemed a deliberate choice. Now that she was closer, Lyra could tell it wasn't just a static image but a moving one, sweeping shots of a desert that worked with the shadows of people moving in front of it, something uncanny about the scene itself, the colours or – there, the cactus was reaching human fingers up toward the sky, which was reaching human fingers back. The twitchy desperately grasp of the cactus hand sent a chill down Lyra's spine and she took Avery's arm, pushing herself up onto her toes so she could whisper in his ear. "Sometimes I think she gotta be a goddess," she said, tilting her head toward Fern. "Or an angel or an elf or a something. Ya think?"