SOTF Mini

Oh, how Rachael looked like a lamb heading for the slaughter. Ramona pitied her, she really did, but at least it seemed that Brandon was just joking around. It wasn't as if Rachael looked entirely comfortable, but at least they were smiling at each other. Defusing situations wasn't exactly a skill of Ramona's, so she figured it was better to just smile at both Brandon and Rachael, while saying nothing.

That may have actually made things more awkward, but at least an effort was made, and not everything had gone to shit. Other than the awkward bit, this dance was just fine. Definitely.

Ramona continued to nod at Brandon and Ramona with a tight-lipped smile, until Brandon began speaking. Lost? Wait, was he speaking to her? No, Ramona was not lost, but he did sound like he wanted to get something on, and she was just about to give a witty retort when Rachael started speaking.

Or, well, at least moving her mouth in a way that looked like speaking. Ramona was pretty sure she was actually speaking, but maybe just a bit too quietly to actually be heard. Either way, Ramona felt as if a conversation may or may not have been interrupted.

"Oh, Rachael, sweetie, you need some help? Anything?" she asked, staring at Rachael with concern in her eyes. Oh, she did not want to deal with a panic attack or something just right now. Turning to Brandon, she gave him a quizzical look, as she blinked at him. What in the hell was up?

Baxter was about to comment when Ramona appeared, sliding in towards Rachael, making her presence known. Lip twitching lightly in annoyance, Baxter leaned against the punch table - thus forcing other attendees to either awkwardly reach around him for their cups or abandon the idea entirely - and watched the little show of feminine alpha posturing.

The sweetie was a nice touch, really - put Rachael in her place a little bit, reminded her that she was in Ramona's world, he guessed - but what sealed the deal was the way she slid her gaze to his, an expression like would you get a load of this in her face, her eyes. If Rachael had been a random, he'd have almost appreciated the subtlety, the devastating simplicity in which she carried out the societal strike.

But Rachael wasn't a random. Not quite a friend, per se, but she was a friend's friend, and he figured by reputation that she was pretty shy about these sort of things, not used to putting herself out there.

That, and her response to his jab was pure question.

"I think we're fine, Ramona," he said, easily, shifting closer towards Rachael, "thanks."

Miss Shirley was smiling pleasantly at her, and Rachael parried with her best attempt at a smile of her own. It was a bit tense, Rachael couldn't help that. Then Miss Shirley was offering help, and oh yes that was a very welcome thing to hear, a better sort of melody than the one dully polluting the dance floor even. Rachael could palpably feel the vise clamped over the meat of her lungs relax some, her chest fell a bit so that she wasn't about to wind up like a spring until she exploded into her best jack-in-the-box approximation.

"Oh, Rachael, sweetie, you need some help? Anything?"

"Um," and Rachael needed a moment for her thoughts so she could respond as pleasantly as she could

"I think we're fine, Ramona, thanks."

And then Rachael was flanked on both sides by singular points of humanity and where had Mister Baxter suddenly come from? Rachael had always known he was that sizable and strong of presence a man but it was further exaggerated with this sort of inferior vantage point, how was anyone else going to be able to grab the punch on the table and what if he could crush her like a bug? Okay, Rachael had to relax. Both Mister Baxter and Miss Shirley were perfectly good and upstanding folk. Or, at least as far as she was aware.

Rachael struggled for another moment, then she nodded demurely in a direction pointed at neither of her companions.

"Um, yes. I am fine, I'm just enjoying the party. I, uh, guess."

Rachael's mewling tone fluctuated in volume a bit as she conscientiously, nervously tried to find the sweet spot between 'too quiet' and 'even quieter than that'.

"... How about you guys?"

Hopefully that lets them take over the conversation?

Okay, maybe Rachael needed help, Ramona could help deal with that. Guide her to somewhere, find the poor girl her date (if she had one), prop her up somewhere, surrounded by less threatening people than who she was around right now. Maybe she was being a bit presumptuous, but she did not care. This poor girl was a lamb, and Ramona was going to help her now. No ifs, no buts, especially not from Rachael.

That was why she was so taken aback when Brandon of all people decided to act as if he was some kinda white knight defending Rachael. No no no, Ramona would not stand for this. A girl was tryna help another girl out, why interfere?

Ramona put her hands up, and glared at Brandon, while pointing at Rachael. Fine? How was this fine? "What are you trying to do now? I am just trying to help Rachael over here find her bearings. Maybe she would appreciate it if she did not feel intimidated."

Brandon may be her date, but she was not going to let him stomp all over him, and undermine her attempts at some well-intentioned guidance. Someone needed help, she was gonna give it, no questions asked.

Turning to Rachael, who seemed to be trying even harder now to sink into the background, Ramona heard her ask a question, quiet as it was. Well, an opportunity to change the topic was perhaps a prudent one.

"Well, I guess I'm doing okay, Rachael. How has your experience been?"

Ramona's smile was beginning to look much more strained.

((Skipping with permission so I can e v a c u a t e t h e d a n c e f l o o r))

Miss Shirley seemed to assume Mister Baxter was intimidating Rachael. That was a bit too on the nose as an estimate; unfortunately enough, as Rachael hadn't intended to come off that way. Oh, it was that usual boiling hot pressure cooker about to blow that she called nerves. The darndest things they were. Miss Shirley saying what she had and interposing her hands- smooth, manicured- directly into the scene, curiously enough it seemed to almost draw Rachael back into reality. The train of her mind stopped derailing into a fiery wreck for just a moment, and she felt her tremulous mouth settle into a neutral gear frown.

"U-uhm, I wasn't... intimidated, per... say?"

Rachael could hear herself so she'd likely spoken loud enough that time. Her eyes softly and slowly swiveled, presenting to both Mister Baxter and Miss Shirley in turn. Rachael's eyes could have been begging forgiveness or an airsickness bag, the tension on the corner of her brow signaled somewhere between the two extremes.

"Experience... At the party." She probably hadn't needed to confirm the obvious, but her nervously ambling mouth overtook her the more well-constructed of her own thoughts.

Was Ramona upset? Rachael didn't know, among the other things she didn't know, like what to say. Rachael was awkwardly silent for a second too long. Then:

"The music's, um... kind of nice, I guess...? Er, like this one song. If either of you... know the, uh, artist..."

And then a loud line of lyric clearly rung out, content rather offensive to every gender under the sun. Rachael visibly groaned, audibly cringed.

"U-uh, well. The instrumental, at least...?"

On and on it went.

When she looked back on this party Rachael would suppose it could have gone worse. Perhaps the night could have been the waxing moon of a scheme millennia old against the humanoid surface dwellers, their breach point a series of yawning canyons and crevasses, masked underneath the innocuous halls of P.J. Hobbs...

((Rachael Langdon continued in It's An Inky Dinky Doo Da Lunchtime))

Ramona was PISSED. Rachael was now just standing there like a lost little lamb, while Brandon Baxter, the asshole was about to go to town on her. She was just about ready to get her fucking freak on and tear into this jerk, when she heard Rachael speaking.

So wait, was she intimidated, or was she not? Ramona was still pissed now, but more than anything, now she was just confused. So, she had blown up on her date to his kinda shitty dance for nothing? Brandon was still an asshole, but at least he wasn't going around just bullying shy girls like Rachael. She guessed that was slightly better.

Regardless of whether Brandon was a jerk or not, Ramona crossed her arms and continued to glare at him, while Rachael still tried to awkwardly make conversation, trying to respond to her question.

Ramona was having none of it, other than nodding at Rachael a few times, or trying to smile at her so she didn't feel too awkward. Not that that really helped, but Ramona was trying. Ramona was also emotionally exhausted however, and at that moment, all she really wanted to be was done with this shit. But, she tried to put on a more positive face, so that it didn't seem as if literally everything around her was crumbling at this party.

At least she looked good, though. She guessed there was some solace to be found in that.

The rest of the dance continued the same way, and when Ramona found the right opportunity to exit without damaging her reputation, she did so. Oh, how this dance turned out poorly.

Well, at least it wasn't prom or anything.

((Ramona Shirley continued in Henshin My Style))