I went to a ball! I even danced--correctly, thanks to the Sparkpeople's technology!
Now for the less pleasant news: I am still not ready to dance with anyone, and I had no clean dresses to wear. (It was a theme masquerade, and I was able to find only a single cape sort of thing in a rubbish bin. I hope that was better than nothing. I mean, I did make the effort. But shortly after I arrived, there was a discussion of how impractical capes can be.) But think of this as a transitional step. The tiniest bit more practice, and I shall bring home the grandest of suitors! That is a promise.
There were many gentlemen there, but none close to my age. I do not know the exact ages of those present, especially considering what I learned about Jaegerpeople's ages, but I don't remember seeing anyone who might reach marrying age around the same time I do. In any case, many already had dance partners,
Speaking of the nature of the Steamlands, the aether last night was bending sound movement and toying with the wardrobes of those who had clothing to select costumes from. I do hope these disturbances never do anything irreversible to me. I wouldn't know what to do.
I deeply regret to say that I wasn't able to conversationally "mingle" very well. Much of the discussion centered on, of all things, graphical histories and moving pictures made in the future. No wonder it's so difficult to understand and assimilate into their culture: A lot of them have been back and forth through time! That explains a sign I saw in Winterfell: A store's name was displayed, followed by "since 2010". (When I first saw it, I was worried that I had been asleep for a hundred and twenty years! That would have been bad.) I cannot imagine what remarkable perspective this must give them to see the past, present, and future out of sequence. It must be very mind-expanding.
Because the lady who had poofed me up to the flying dance place left before I did, and because my Landmark wasn't with me, I was at first at a loss for how to get back to civilization. The place the ball was held happened to be so high in the air that I couldn't see anything below, and part of it was on fire (though I'm pretty sure that was originally meant to be decorative). So, staying there was out of the question, but so was leaving. Finally, Miss Dreamscape asked a gentleman who could fly unaided if he would take me down to the ground. He agreed to do so, and thus although I accidentally lost my grip on his hand before we had finished our descent, I was able to land in the water from a safe altitude. I never got to thank him, though. I hope he doesn't take it personally!
I remain concerned for Miss Dreamscape. She was still on the flying dance island when we left. She said she wanted to jump off and hit the ground, and from the way she talked, she didn't sound suicidal, but instead convinced she would survive. I hope to God in Heaven she was right! She's not human, after all, so she may not share our limitations. But part of me still thinks that even a block of solid steel couldn't fall from that height undamaged. I can't think of anything to do but wait and see if she ever turns up again. (She was, when I think of it, indirectly responsible for my own getting down safely. This is not a matter I can easily dismiss as being some stranger's concern.)
After getting out of the water, I ended up in a big city like Boston. I know it's not Boston, but it's still big like Boston and easy to get lost in--which I did promptly, as I'm sure you expected. I found a sheltered little alley as soon as feasible, though, and spent the night just about as safe and comfortable as I've ever been since running away from home. The surrounding aether feels off-kilter somehow, but that's to be expected in a large city full of mad scientists.
I had trouble falling asleep at first thanks to a mechanical clown a short distance away that kept speaking and telling spooky jokes, but once I did, I had a surprisingly gentle dream. In this one, I was playing croquet with the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland, and I accidentally stepped on the hem of her dress, and she yelled, "Off with her head!" Then before I could do anything, a shadowy being tore my head off and ran away with it. And that was it: No drama, no trauma, no heartache, no unspeakable mind-rending apocalypse. The two of you didn't even get hurt. I could get used to this.
I hope I will continue to make social progress. It seems that wonderful opportunities are before me if only I think to use them. Next time there is a ball, perhaps I'll have the courage to dance with a gentleman! I can't guarantee that I'll progress quite that quickly, though.
Love eternal and enduring,
Your little lady Shaqad
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