location: the conrad masquerade ball, dessert table closed: @finleypark
The sugars in her bubbly were never going to be enough to satisfy Scout's sweet tooth. She was a dessert girly through and through, and from the few murmurs she'd heard, there was a mini cheesecake that she just had to get her hands on. Plate in hand, she maneuvered her way down as best she could— ultimately hindered: first by her own clumsy nature, then onward by the booze and the towering heels she'd strapped to her feet in the name of fashion.
Lemon square, pass. Macaroon, a quick one on the go. Decadent brownie, she'd have to come back for one later. Cheesecake, cheesecake, cheesecake... ah-ha!
With just a single square left, her hand darted out, just barely beating out another. Scout looked up to meet the eyes of her competitor, only to find them hard to make out, a golden mask in the way. "I'd apologize, except... I really want this. And you know, 'mess with the bull you get the horns,' amiright?" she said, raising her right hand up to her forehead, thumb and pinkie prodded out to mimic horns. To mimic his mask. Whoever he was.