"Tristan Michaud," Ben echoed, knowing the name seemed familiar but taking a moment to place it. With how much time he spent around Art and how many of his other friends were either Quidditch players or Quidditch-adjacent, though, it didn't take him long. "Ah, the chaser. What the devil are you wearing?"

He asked under the assumption that Michaud had had some agency in determining his outfit for the night (which was, generally, a fair assumption), but realized afterwards that in this case it might not be entirely accurate. Ben, after all, had been forced into ... something. A costume, he supposed, but it was hard to see it all while he was, well, in it. The shoes he was wearing looked more like — well, he supposed they had to have been boots, but from the shape of them it was hard to imagine that his feet were even down there. They sloped up towards his calves instead of cutting in at the top of his feet, making it look like he had hooves down there.

"You, ah — did you just go through that little dark room, too?" he asked, returning his attention to Michaud.

OOC: Although Ben doesn't know it yet he also has some big horns on his head/mask.