[{Party girls don't get hurt]} [OPEN!]

She had to wonder at least a little bit what was about that dance floor that made people afraid to go near it, or just have a strong desire to be on there? Dancing just must bring that out in ponies though it can be fun...if less crowded. Simply watching the crowd dance along with Low as the two just sat there. Turning her head back to him when he had finally come back to their world as she paused.

Slightly nodding to agree that she could at least introduce herself. " I'm Cherry Flip...Its um nice to meet you....this is some party huh? " Pausing a moment as if thinking of what she could say to try and at least be somewhat talkative. She didn't need to have more reasons to run away from things tonight. " Biggest one thats ever hit town...Its nice at least to see everyone having fun...don't you think? " Pausing again to take a look back at him away from the dance floor once again.

(also that was one of the prettiest songs I had ever heard low key fff i love classical music)

Aaannnddd there it was. Of course Claire Dupont had to include them so quickly. No time to beat a hasty retreat. After all, this was /her/ party. The two needed to stay and entertain her just until she got bored with them. Which, hopefully shouldn't be too horribly long.

Might as well make a show of it, too. Putting on her best smile, Spirit bowed slightly. Honestly, she felt completely wrong in front of everypony here. While they were all dressed to the nines, she had nothing. Her cloak had been ditched in a corner somewhere, and she had but a meager bracelet as her attire, "I do not believe that we had properly introduced ourselves, yet, actually," she claimed, "My name is Spirit Weaver, and my companion is Pixy Stix. It's a pleasure to meet you both."

It had seemed that there was nothing but introductions taking place where Claire stood, everypony shaking hooves and nodding and smiling, insincerely. There was one little mare with a green mane, who was very brightly colored, who looked very frightened, and who occasionally glanced in his direction, scoping him out and making sure not to lose him, it seemed. In him, his protective instinct went wild, and he wanted to scoop her up and tell her everything would be okay, but at the moment, he would rather wait until she and him were not in public, where he would surely make her fear and embarrassment much, much worse.

There was another pony next to her, with gold eyes and a grey coat, much like himself. He took a particular interest in her, if only because of their similar traits. She wore a bracelet, made of bronze it appeared, with some small engravings on the plating.

Damascus had also noticed a tall brown stallion, with a scraggly grey beard, and mane with what looked like three braids on the cusp of falling into his eye. He wore old robes, appearing to belong to a.. What was the word? Wanderer, he supposed. A drifter, the type to never stay in one place. He could immediately tell that he and the stallion would probably not get along.

He proposed internally to just walk up to everyone in the small group up there, and introduce himself to them. Walking up to them, letting his steel clang on the floors, the chainmail rattling within, and his hair falling just above the fetlock line. He nodded to each pony collectively, smiling under his helmet. His booming, calm voice echoed out from his helmet. "Hello there, what's all this crock about?"

Drinks count: 4, working on 5

Sugar was a regular party animal now, jumping and dancing and grinding with the rest of the assorted ponies. However, she felt the need for food. More food, yes, that's what she needed. Something delicious, maybe even fancy.

And so, obviously more than a little tipsy, she stumbled in the direction of the food. She liked food. Mmmmmm, food was good. Delicious. Food equaled energy! And energy was good. Energy meant more action, and action was good too. More action meant more work done, and more work done meant more time to do this, which was very good.

Pixy personally found the knight's armor to be fascinating. She wasn't as scared off by him because his armor made him look a little more feminine than he really was, and it had that classic charm she liked. The only thing that startled her was his voice. Though, she found herself curiously staring at the design on the protection upon his shoulders and didn't even notice Claire turn and leave.

Her ears finally perked up, her interest for old-fashioned things sparked. Almost excitedly she looked up into the darkness of the slits in his helmet, but didn't move near him at the same time. "What's it made out of?" She gestured towards Dam's armored chest.

This type of thing was honestly her weak spot, one could potentially make her forget her shyness when you mention old timey things around her. Or in this case, walk up as a classic knight.

Damascus stood firm, supporting the timid (but not so at this very moment) mare with his chest. Laughing from under his helmet, he smiled at her. "It's made of geisteel, my friend, as well as my blade. One of the few of its kind." He held her hooves and lightly set them back to the ground, and patted her head. Then, he turned to face Spirit.

"Very nice to meet you, madame Weaver, Stix. My name is Damascus Rose, current guardian of the North Hive." He bowed his head. "At your service."

In light of Claire's giggling and sudden leave, he had realized that he did look very out of place in this setting, but, it wasn't like he'd ever meet her or anyone else here again, why would he care? Although it did sting a little. He always thought his armor looked gorgeous. Maybe he'll get another chance to talk to her when his armor (or, at least his helmet) was not on his body.