[indent][u][b]February 28th; 9:15PM One Week Year Veterans Benefit Gala, Imperial Gotham Hotel, Gotham City[/b][/u][/indent] Karen, it seemed, had had the last laugh. While she had got to enjoy a quiet, comfortable ride home to what was going to be at [i]least[/i] a four-course meal prepared by a world-class chef… Mal had been abruptly handed a change of clothes and told he was coming [i]here.[/i] To sip non-alcoholic champagne, hover over the hors d'oeuvres table and try to at least [i]look[/i] the part of the high-class, Gotham Socialite he was expected to be while using every once of his considerable willpower to not just cram every single one of those tiny, fancy sandwiches into his starving gullet. That’s not to say he really [i]hated[/i] these charity events mind you-- it [i]was[/i] for a good cause, after all --But having this whole thing abruptly dropped on him after twelve hours on a [i]goddamn submarine[/i] was a bit much. He could feel that ol’ Kasimir Brow twitch involuntarily in unbidden irritability, even as he not-so-subtly wolfed down another one of those tiny sandwiches and chased it with a gulp of his fake wine. Such was the life of Malcolm Talhaiarn-Kasimir. Well, at least he seemed to be left to his own devices for the time being- something he was particularly grateful for, after not only the voyage, but the past month of [i]’work’[/i] beneath the ocean. Hell, aside from the customary joking [i]’Hail to the Little Chief!’[/i] shouted from the Vanguard table he’d gotten used to hearing over the years when he arrived and stopping to shoot the shit with them before his hunger got the best of him and he headed to the big fancy table of fancier food… he hadn’t actually run into anyone else. Which was weird, because usually he couldn’t take a breath at these kind of functions without someone aggressively all-but-humping his leg to try and gain his mom’s favour... Or take his picture... Or try and marry him off to their kids in some weird dynasty-building gambit... Weird, but not at all unwelcome. Still a little odd to be alone at the hors d'oeuvres table of all things, he couldn’t help but think, as he finally took his mind off of his empty gullet for the first time since getting here and actually bothered to look around, pay attention and- [color=#5566db]”OOOHOHOHOHO!”[/color] [color=orangered]”What.”[/color] Came Mal’s very audible, very sensible and very much [i]ignored[/i] sentiment to that… [i]particular piece of vocalization[/i] that assailed his ears and danced across his vision like ripples on a pond as he finally turned around and solved that riddle of where exactly everyone had gotten off to- Crowded around a single woman on the opposite side of the room, apparently. Literally. Everyone. [i]Even the [b]mice[/b] no one else seemed to notice.[/i] [color=orangered][i]”What the hell.”[/i][/color] Again, Mal’s thoughts made themselves known out loud. And again, there was no one paying attention to take offense to them. Not that he minded the lack of anyone around to hear his big social faux-pas, but odd he found it all the same. And it grew more odd the more he looked at it. Namely, the fact that while seemingly the entire guest-list minus him was crowded around this mystery-woman, they weren’t actually mingling with [i]eachother[/i] at all, eyes focused solely upon her save for the very subtle, occasional elbowing they did to work their way deeper into the messy mass of people. The fact that the pleasure-centres of their brains seemed to light up in a way that struck him as [i]particularly unnatural[/i] also stuck out. Moreso that it seemed exactly proportionate to how close to the woman they were. And that the woman herself wasn’t quite… [i]right.[/i] In a way that he couldn’t quite put down in words. That bore investigating. So, Kasimir Brow rising to full mast as he finished what was left of his fake booze and set the glass down, Mal stuffed his hands into his pockets and quietly made his way over, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion beginning to make it’s way onto his face. ...And even more quietly, the mechanisms in his psyche that made up the other half of his life began to spool up in caution. The woman at the epicenter of the crowd, rather than being overwhelmed by all of the attention being rained down upon her, seemed quite at ease and even [i]comfortable[/i], if perhaps a little bored. With a glass of champagne in her hand, she quite casually addressed the crowd, which seemed to hang on her every word. [color=#5566db]”This is why events such as these are so important—even now, five years after that terrible conflict. Millions are still without food or water throughout the world, with little being done to correct this injustice,”[/color] she said, her kind words delivered with a level of haughtiness that most would consider insincere, though it wasn’t clear if that was truly the case. Despite the way she held her head high, her nose practically pointed down at the gaggle of guests surrounding her, there was no sense that they found her attitude the slightest bit off-putting. Quite the contrary, in fact. [color=#5566db]”I expect you all to do your very best to support this most important of causes, as Herlua Enterprises will assuredly do,”[/color] she continued. Frowning slightly at this young lady’s downright [i]lordly[/i] attitude, Mal’s eyes travelled to his left… and then to his right to gauge the reactions of the party-goers around him and found that, contrary to conventional wisdom that seemed to [i]scream[/i] that they should be just a [i]tiny[/i] bit put off by her non-chalant haughtiness and body-language that painted in great detail just how [i]little[/i] she actually wanted to be there, the whole lot of them seemed ready to heave her up on their shoulders and carry her directly to her own coronation on her very next breath. All this paired with that… [i]laugh[/i] from the woman he was still not entirely convinced was human earlier only served to make this whole thing seem even more [i]ridiculous.[/i] [color=orangered][i]”Riiiiight…”[/i][/color] Mal mused flatly, though quietly as he calmly plucked a glass of [i]actual[/i] champagne off the tray of some server who wasn’t paying attention anyway and downed the whole thing. [color=orangered]”Right when Karen ain’t around. That figures.”[/color] Because he had a pretty good idea of what exactly he was dealing with by this point- [i]Magic.[/i] As if he had unintentionally summoned her attention through his ruminations, the woman’s head turned towards Mal, her sharp blue eyes centering on the scar-faced boy. Smiling subtly, she stepped through the crowd towards him—which obediently parted for her with the same expression of awe. [color=#5566db]”I say, aren’t you Malcolm Kasimir? Yes, of course—your face is unmistakable,”[/color] she said, offering him a hand. [color=#5566db]”It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance; I am Aelia de Herlua, of Herlua Enterprises, as I’m certain you’re aware.”[/color] From his peripheral and his view of the crowd behind the young heiress, Mal’s brain began analyzing their reactions in less than half the time it took her to actually reach him and offer him her hand. Shock. Jealousy. Something akin to heartbreak. Just a touch of [i]anger.[/i] Just a bit unsettling, to say the least, as his left hand carefully began to rise out of his pocket to subtly hang at the ready by his side. Even as that famous little charming Kasimir Smirk of his that had become his trademark over the years played off his face to keep up appearances. He was better off playing along until he actually knew what was going on here, he figured- he’d rather not be ripped limb from limb by a frenzied mob on his first day home, after all. [color=orangered]”Pleasure’s all mine, Miss de Herlua.”[/color] The boy responded, shaking the woman’s hand and trying to ignore the spike of firing neurons the act elicited in the crowd around them. Before casually indicating at the windows and the raging storm outside with his thumb. [color=orangered]”I trust you haven’t been [i]too[/i] troubled by our traditional ‘Gotham Welcome’, have you?”[/color] Aelia craned her head towards the window ever so slightly, before focusing again on Malcolm. She seemed almost [i]perplexed[/i] by his question, though it wasn’t apparent why. [color=#5566db]”Oh, no—the weather seldom troubles me. Are you...feeling quite alright? Is something the matter?”[/color] The haughty expression she had worn since he had initially laid eyes upon her had been replaced with one of mild concern, as if she was looking at somebody who was visibly ill. Again, Malcolm felt that Kasimir Brow of his raise slightly as he scanned the mish-mash of whirling… [i]something[/i] before him that made up ‘Aelia de Herlua’, starting to look honestly perplexed himself. Whatever else was going on here, that last remark seemed… [i]genuine…[/i] [color=orangered][i]’Waaaaait a second…’[/i][/color] Those afore-mentioned mechanisms in his psyche began to wind down slightly, and that charming smirk fell slightly off that battle-scarred face of his as something suddenly occurred to him- Was she… even [i]aware[/i] of what was going on in the heads of the people around her? [color=orangered]”I’m… fine?”[/color] The boy finally answered after a moment’s silence, brow still raised, though it came back down again as he fell back into his usual wry charm [color=orangered]”Spent twelve hours on a submarine before I got here next to my grumpy, seasick friend, mind you, but I’m alright.”[/color] At that, he couldn’t help but turn his head slightly to the side in an involuntary expression of curiosity. [color=orangered]”...Why do you ask?”[/color] Aelia’s mouth opened as if to speak, but closed almost immediately afterwards. She seemed to be struggling to find the appropriate words, or explain the root of her concern. After several moments passed between them (with the crowd growing ever more restless with her diverted attention), she finally spoke. [color=#5566db]”It’s just...you’re...conversing with me?”[/color] she said, her words still laced with uncertainty. [color=#5566db]”No, but of course you are...it’s simply...I...do not know how to describe it. Did I do something to offend you?”[/color] [color=orangered]”...Wait, what?”[/color] At that, just a [i]tiny[/i] bit of the [i]real[/i] Mal bled through just a bit as a little chuckle bubbled it’s way up from his chest, setting off another wave of heightened reactions from the crowd he was quickly starting to ignore more and more as this played out. [color=orangered]”I know I don’t exactly have the [i]gentlest[/i] features in the room, but I don’t look [i]that[/i] mean, do I?”[/color] His head tilted to the side slightly as he continued. [color=orangered]”Why would I be offended?”[/color] [color=#5566db]”I...do not know,”[/color] she answered honestly, glancing over her shoulder at the crowd. This resulted in their collective faces lighting up, only for their joy to quickly vanish when she returned her focus to Malcolm. [color=#5566db]”The only ones to ever converse with me in such a way were my family, and one particularly strange woman.”[/color] Her awkward manner of speech made for quite the contrast to the earlier confidence that had practically [i]dripped[/i] from her every word—not that one could tell based on the crowd’s enraptured stares. As she looked away towards the crowd, the Kasimir ward’s eyes followed her stare, reading the room as she did, but having his own obvious means of gauging the situation and forming his own conclusion. Eyes flicking back to the heiress in question, the boy took just the tiniest step forward (an action that sent shockwaves throughout the crowded room that he merrily ignored) and leaned in slightly, speaking low and without the filter he’d kept up this entire time. [color=orangered]”Just a hunch, but not one of these people have actually [i]said[/i] anything to you all night outside of greetings and praising the very air you [i]breathe,[/i] right?”[/color] Aelia’s jaw dropped at this, her eyes once more darting to the crowd behind her. [color=orchid]”Well, [i]of course not![/i] They’re not my family, after all—why would they speak to me in such a way? Rather, the more appropriate question would be why [i]you’re[/i] speaking to me in such a familiar manner?”[/color] As her tone shifted, as did the crowd’s mood, something Mal couldn’t rightly ignore this time around as his hands folded neatly behind his back… and his thumbs travelled up his sleeves slightly to thumb at some unseen device. A sharpness had returned to her words with this, perhaps brought about by his own blunt assessment of the situation. [color=orangered][i]’Ooookay, Mal… you’re playing with fire now…’[/i][/color] Came Mal’s thoughts as his brow furrowed slightly, eye’s briefly scanning the room but otherwise showing no outward sign of having any intention of backing down. [color=orangered]”Because [i]that[/i] is not speaking, [i]that is [b]idolatry.[/b][/i]”[/color] He explained, as if he’d been asked to tell her that [i]water is wet[/i], motioning towards the increasingly tense crowd with his chin. [color=orangered]”And as far as I can tell, I’m the only one you’ve actually [i]talked[/i] to all night.”[/color] At his tone, the people around them became more and more incensed and more than a bit of growling and muttered cursing mixed with threats had started to permeate the air… though a few of his Vanguard friends seemed to plateau from whatever had a hold of their minds and rapidly come back down as the reality of the situation seeped in. That was reassuring, maybe he’d survive this after all. [i]Maybe.[/i] Raising his brow slightly all the same in defiance of his circumstances, Mal concluded. [color=orangered]”...But if this is so offensive to you, I’ll happily show myself out.”[/color] Aelia looked back at the crowd, raising a hand to calm them. [color=#5566db]”Now, now, everyone—it’s quite alright. He has a right to speak his mind, of course.”[/color] The crowd seemed to react immediately to her placation, growing outwardly calmer—albeit with a lingering fury behind their eyes. Apparently satisfied with this, Aelia returned her attention to Malcolm. [color=#5566db]”I am not offended, simply...taken aback, I suppose. You are a very strange man, Malcolm Kasimir. I will remember this meeting between us, in case it is not the last.”[/color] As the crowd seemed to calm down, Malcolm’s hands fell back into his pockets in a clearly relaxed posture… and more subtly the slight subsonic ringing that had been slowly building up in his sleeves, drowned out by all the commotion abruptly ceased. [color=orangered]”Ditto.”[/color] The boy stated simply, relieving a now particularly [i]grumpy[/i] server of another glass of champagne that he abruptly downed as he turned to leave. [color=orangered]”...And that’s [i]Talhaiarn[/i]-Kasimir.”[/color]