Someone at least had noticed him, even if she seemed rather perplexed by Risu's choice of costume. He had to admit it was very metaphysical. "Hello, hello," he called cheerfully along the table, past his elaborately and imaginatively dressed-up colleagues.

A large jug of pumpkin juice was soon located, and Risu poured himself a goblet. He took a sip and then, drumming his fingers on the table, looked around, trying to figure out what he was in the mood for.

The food tables certainly looked inviting, beckoning in many seductive shapes and smells. He was certainly hungry.
But what about the dance floor? That beckoned too, more in shapes than smells, but Risu was definitely up to a little twirl with one of his colleagues. Maybe even Hecate if she promised not to bite his head off.