#rutgers

"We're... hosting, yeah?" A step towards the circle. "Her first Samhain."

Every aspect of feminity is on display in the circle, oh yes, there are graceful delicate motions, but there are also sways and struts, and there are stomps and motions of power, no less feminine!

This... isn't dancing she's decoded yet. But the other dancing has her conflicted and skittish even as it appeals.

But she can follow a lead, here.

At times a kind of 'wave' flows, arms moving in alternating harmony to the next

Flowy, pretty, soft...

Dagmar is between Belinda, who blushes a LOT... then laughs.. and Masey, who doesn't blush a bit

This isn't want she wants, she can't match that. Dagmar needs to move more.

She scoops up Masey by the hips, lifting and spinning into the pattern.

Masey's hair flutters and she trusts the troll, and the strength of her own core, and turns holds a position to make Dirty Dancing look old and done

THAT is better, yes!

Belinda gets a turn, too!

Belinda "WoW, you are strong!"

"Amazon!"

"Strong, powerful, sexy," Masey runs fingers boldly over Dagmar's shoulder blades and upper back "Amazon"

Goosebumps rise under Masey's touch, and the troll stammers a response that seems positive, if too jumbled to quite make sense.

Belinda blushes "Masey, I'm not sure i'm into..."

"You do what you want to do," Masey slides between both, light touches "But there is no better time to learn if you want to find out. For now, keep dancing"

"I wouldn't let anyone hurt you." A promise to Belinda.

Sure, she's Unseelie.

She's also Dagmar.

Belinda's eyes soften at that, "Thank you, thank you both"

"You're my friend, goof" Massey smiles at her, "Even if I do positively have to drag you to parties you end up enjoying"

And there it is, truth. Masey may lust for them both, she may rely on Belinda as a dreamer now and then, but she also truly sees Belinda as a friend!

Which is good, of course. It is.

Dagmar is outside of their bond. And the hands that grasp and lift in the dance are safe - restrained, even tonight.

Both ladies enjoy.

And when they take a break, a delicate voice says "A drink, daughter of the gods?" A mortal girl, scantily dressed, her eyes filled with delight even now, has a tray with drinks. And.. it's Chelsea!

"Chelsea! Hey!"

Her eyes light up with recongition kind of "I.. I know you ? Holy SHit, SAM?"

The enthusiasm at seeing her... friend? Almost friend? At seeing Chelsea, whatever she is, is only tempered a little by the outfit. "Dagmar, tonight. Yeah, hi! You want to dance, too?"

"I'm supposed to serve drinks. I Signed something? Weird dream" She says "You look like we're in Avatar, but no tail, cool horns"

"I'm sure I can make it okay?"

"Then I'd love to dance"

"Come on..." She takes Chelsea's hands, to draw her into the circle.

As she starts too, the girl seems to hold in place.

Then another satyress turns "Oh hey, everything okay?" SHe moves forward, owl mask , perhaps to show Athena's wisdom

"She can't join the dance? She's my friend."

"Ah, then simply declare she is now a guest. The contract will be voided" The owl satyr assures

"Chelsea is my guest!"

Chelsa seems to gain strength and smiles, putting the tray away, and takes Dagmar's hands "I think you should lead, being taller. And.. thanks"

"You need to meet Belinda and Masey, they brought me along..."

"Wow, this is so different from our Cereal meals together" She says

And she's lead to meet Masey and Belinda

And they welcome her warmly, Masey likes her, but most of the satyress' most smoldering glances are saved for the azure amazon

Dagmar is comfortable in a support role, daring enough to grasp arms and sometimes hips - happy to move, happy to touch, but it is with a mixture of desire and restraint.

And it is fun, it is delightful... it is intoxicating...

but at home, they give warning when the gift of pan starts. At home the satyrs have been told they have to WARN people....

this is rutgers, and apparently, warning isn't a thing here. Masey isn't the first to start. No, that's the satyress with the owl mask on pipes. then another, then Massey laughing joins in...

Dagmar doesn't stop dancing - she wants to dance. But now.. those hands linger, palm to scant fabric or goat hair or directly against the warm soft skin of her companions, to hold, to touch, even though she knows better... even though she doesn't need...