Joachim had put on his uniform for the occasion, but only the khakis, not full dress. With the plain white mask covering the upper half of his face, he felt like some ridiculous impersonation of a highway bandit, but he'd needed to get out of the confines of his loaned residence for the night. Caught between the choice of solitude and company, he'd chosen company because the sound of his own breathing had begun to wear on his nerves.
And the hall was pleasant enough, and the major eyed the full punch bowls before turning to study the dancers that occupied the floor. He doubted that his leg would be up to much of that just now, but at the moment he was simply glad to not be isolated. He stepped aside to make room for a couple on their way to join the others, noticed the ill-at-ease young man who seemed to be in search of something worth imbibing.
"If it the cost that concerns you, the punch is likely your best bet. From what little I can recall of these affairs, the owners of the hall seek to at least cover the price of cleaning up after so many shoes."