Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-76.118.55.65-20150812045228/@comment-3991308-20150820202710

Meanwhile, Bastion Fanfarinet had been stuck with the most pretentious, stuck-up man of the night.

Yiannis Faithful was the literal worst. First of, the serving boy had made some off-hand comment about Bastion's best friend, which was totally not cool. Then, the guy had rambled about how Andersen and D'Aulnoy were not real fairytales for not being actual folklore, which was a huge personal offence, and to top it off, the number of insensitive "jokes" Yiannis pulled were irritating.

If Bastion was someone who punched people in the face, rather than someone who got punched in the face, then Yiannis would be nursing his oh-so-handsome nose right now. But Bastion wasn't, and spend most of his time grinning and bearing whatever the next Faithful Johannes was sprouting.

Bastion blamed his parents for making him go to the ball. "You're the next Ambassador," they had said. "You're supposed to be at prestigious events and making sure all things go to plan." Bastion didn't even want to be here, much less be around look after the worst of people (that's Yiannis).

"I'm going to go hit on pretty girls," he said, pulling away from the serving boy. "Which are people who I know you're not interested in–"

"Nonsense," Yiannis said, folding his hands and looking at the next Ambassador with a cultured smirk. "I can wingman for you."

"I don't want you to wingman for me," Bastion said, exasperated, before disappearing into the dance floor.

((Hope this is okay!))