Troy (Eleven) & Open
Troy pushed into the reception listening to the music as it bumped and played and spun around looking at all the decorations. Not that there would be a significant amount, necessarily, but the mansion itself was actually rather brilliant to look at in all of its splendor. That being said, in his tuxedo with a top hat and buckled shoes, Troy was able to push through the throng of people unnoticed. In his mind? Doing it brilliantly, but he likely did stick out a bit like a sore thumb, with pock marks and scratches on it, and likely green.
Still, he was there and almost immediately made his way for the snacks table, when he noticed no existing Jammie Dodgers; which, of course, immediately through him into a depressing mold. So, instead, he spun on his heels and turned for the dance floor which he made his way towards immediately. As he slipped into the crowd he began to dance in a way that might suggest seizures or any remote ability to comprehend motion. Pumping his fists back and forth spastically in front of him as he swayed his head from side to side in a staccato'd sort of way that might give the Night at the Roxbury guys jealous fits, he bent at the knees and moved into the crowd who were already looking at him with an absurd amount of 'omg, wtf' faces.
The face of his was, probably the best part. Lips producing a sort of half duck face, half serious and wrinkled purse gave him that sense of not having fun as much as he was taking himself way too seriously for those dance moves.