Not to be out shined by the collective of stylists with their neon crimped wigs and florescent body glitter, Calendius is dressed for the occasion. Liberated from the confines of Adrastea's jewelry box are a pair of diamond stud earrings ever so slightly too large for his head. They stand out starkly against the fauxhawk that's been dyed a rather fetching navy. His shirt is a tasteful starched Egyptian cotton button up, and his slacks are a subtle pinstripe that seem to glitter ever so slightly when he moves through the ambient lighting of the room. The soles of his leatherette dress shoes might just light up.

Frankly, Calendius preferred classier parties. He isn't much of a drinker, but he's good with smalltalk and general mingling. Unfortunately, the mingling here just so happens to involve unholy (and unhealthy) amounts of liquor. As such, he hangs back slightly, laying low compared to his usual party night shenanigans. It doesn't stop him from flirting with a few of the fairer creatures in attendance, but those paying attention might notice that he's been nursing the same glass of champagne since he arrived. Look, even without all the adverse affects of heavy drinking on the liver and central nervous system, who really needs the calories? But no one.