[center][hr][hr][h3][color=b83d55][b]Dustyn Taylor Flint[/b][/color][/h3]
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[img]http://img.ccrd.clearchannel.com/media/mlib/2135/2015/04/default/tove_lo_5_0_1428338819.gif[/img]
[b][u][color=b83d55]Location:[/color][/u][/b] The Banquet Hall
[b][u][color=b83d55]Interacting With:[/color][/u][/b] Nobody. Somebody. Anybody.[/center][hr][hr]

After a very surprising win during the annual spartan race, Dustyn was feeling mighty fine about herself. Her obstacle earlier in the day was a Paralysis Dart-Dodging Challenge, something the girl had no previous experience specifically in. However, she did have plenty of experience in getting out of trouble and harm's way. With a smile and a good luck to her competitor; the petite girl dipped, dived, ducked, and dodged her way away from the darts. She had felt bad for Alessandra, but not bad enough to dance around the girl's paralyzed body for a good three minutes.

After being drenched in sweat, she decided to head back to her room and take yet another shower for the day and get ready for tonight's activities. Though the idea of free food and dancing sounded like a good time, she was mostly excited for the rave that was supposed to happen tonight. Atleast that is what Laurel said, and his word was law in Dustyn's land. Dressing formal, but a bit on the flashy side the young daughter of Dionysus adorned a [url=http://assets.rollingstone.com/assets/2014/gallery/10-new-artists-you-need-to-know-june-2014-20140619/tove-lo-0758426/133287/_original/1035x1551-20140617-tove-x1800-1403034183.jpg]little black dress[/url] and paired it with a black leather jacket in case she would be dress coded before she could even step in the door. It was an outfit mostly for later tonight, but because she knew she would be too lazy to go back and change again so she might as well wear it now.

Regardless, Dustyn swept in to the banquet hall and went straight to the food. Piling her plate with things that she didn't even know the name of, she picked and popped things into her mouth. Some were spit out instantly into the 'spit pile' of food back onto her plate, but most things were swallowed. Spitters were quitters after all. At least that is what Laurel had told her once. Finding a table to sit at, she put down her plate and began eating off it. She wasn't too sure where her friends had gone off to, losing them during the spartan race, and assuming that they would get a hold of her when it was time to leave the banquet.