There was an elephant in the room. He took up lots of space, indeed, carting around in a wheelchair that clunky and awkward amongst the sensational, stylish footwear that tipped, tapped, and trod under the vaulted ceiling. He was the only person in the lounge, it seemed, to notice Asami's haggard sputtering.

"Hm," nodded the bartender in curt affirmation. His smile was polite, but Asami felt a permeating air of disgust waft from the older man's disposition. It was not a smile, but a mask, and Asami's lessons with her father had taught her well enough to read situations, to read people, before they had ever entered his atelier. Even if she sensed malice, even if she picked up on the most palpable urge to kill:

[i]"You must give all people you meet the benefit of the doubt. Do not just treat them with respect," warned Papa.

Mother finished for him, as she always did. "See these people with a heart of kindness, and[/i] you [i]will live long."[/i]

[i]People[/i].  Asami grimaced, contorting her bolded lips at the thought of her parent's advice. They were being too forgiving in referring to their family's clientele as 'people'. It was fear, not respect or kindness they spoke so highly of, that she felt every time the bell over the door rang in that humble shop.

The Enthralling. With talons stretched so thin over society, yet dug so deep into it, Asami was smarter than to assume that none were there, tonight. Still pensive, she boldly watched the barman place the disabled man's drink on a coaster with arrogant reluctance. He turned on his heel to attend to a sour-looking couple down at the other end of the counter.

With the respect learned from her father, and the kindness inherited from her mother, Asami decided to not overlook the poker-faced stranger. In fact, she bolstered an uplifting smile that took the energy of the room with it. She'd been smiling all day, and the apples of her cheeks were sore, but the gesture remained radiant.

"[i]Rusty nail[/i], huh? They always come up with interesting names for these," she wiggled her glass, tacking on. "Are you here to support anyone in particular?" asked the lively 22-year-old with a twinkle. "Or maybe you're here for the art? The theme for the gala is '[i]Aposematism[/i]'. The seniors were very clever with the wordplay, this year, I think." She'd wanted to be memorable, and hoped her charm would help her stand out.