[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/RsPNCur.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/czd3H9L.png[/img][/center] [color=lightgray][color=#6C72C6]Time:[/color] Evening [color=#6C72C6]Location:[/color] The Gossamer [color=#6C72C6]Mentions:[/color] [@Oso] Kilian [@Tae] Torvi [@HylianRose] Lucian [hr] Marina had always known her brother was up to something—[i]just not dinner with the man who keeps a woman on a leash[/i] something. And she hadn’t exactly been subtle about her opinion. The moment her eyes landed on the scene, her brows rose with such violent disbelief it was as if they were trying to escape the rest of her face entirely. Her mouth followed, drawing itself into a tight, offended frown that would have been unmistakable on anyone else—except Marina, whose face was partially hidden by a ridiculous curled mustache above her lip. She wore it with the kind of unwavering confidence that only [i]she[/i] could summon: not because it looked convincing, but because she had decided the world would simply have to accept it. Nonetheless, her reality was currently occupied by the fact that there was a woman on a chain. A literal woman on a chain... [i][b]Like a dog.[/b][/i] Marina’s mind kept circling, catching on the same detail over and over as if her thoughts were stuck in a loop. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, settling into what she clearly intended to be an air of nonchalance and disinterest—except disinterest did not come naturally to Princess Marina Camilia, and it certainly didn’t come naturally when her brother was across the room fraternizing with a scary-looking man with a chained girl like this was an acceptable way to spend an evening. Though she sat relatively close to the table, it was not quite close enough. Marnie had angled herself at a nearby table that was partially shadowed by a decorative plant and a column that absolutely did not conceal her as much as she believed it did. At least the outfit gave her the confidence to commit to the lie. Her frame was only slightly swallowed by the male suit she wore. A [i]very[/i] high-quality top hat was perched upon her auburn head. The monocle was, admittedly, a delightful touch, but it did little to help her garner any additional information. [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/pbpFi7n.jpeg[/img][/center] Her lips compressed into a thin line as she continued to stare, and all the while, her frustration was building. So she moved on to her next tactic. A pair of opera binoculars emerged from her coat, and Marina lifted them to her eyes and obtained a perfect, crisp view of her targets, but the beauty and detail did not translate into comprehension. Lip-reading, Marina discovered, was a deeply humbling skill to attempt; it might as well have been an ancient language. Then came the white-haired lady with a [i]GIANT[/i] wolf. Marina could not comprehend why that animal was so [b]huge[/b] nor why it was even allowed in a place like this. [color=#6C72C6][i]Why are you with these weirdos?[/i] [/color] her mind demanded at Lucian. At this point she needed ears. If she couldn’t get close, she’d do this the old-fashioned way: bribery. A waiter drifted past with a tray of champagne flutes, and Marina reached out with two fingers to snag the edge of his sleeve. She gave him what she believed was a charming look—unfortunately filtered through mustache. [color=#7D7FDB]“Psst.”[/color] The waiter flinched like she’d jabbed him with her fork. His eyes did a panicked sweep of the room before returning to her face—and then, briefly, to the mustache. [color=#C9A44C]“Madam—”[/color] [color=#7D7FDB]“Sir.”[/color] Marina corrected automatically, tugging at the mustache with two fingers like that made it more convincing. [color=#7D7FDB]“Sir. Look—do you see that roped-off table?”[/color] [color=#C9A44C]“I…”[/color] Marina leaned in, lowering her voice. [color=#7D7FDB]“I just need you to walk by that table—[i]very... casually...[/i]—like you’re doing your job, and listen. Then come back and tell me what they’re saying.”[/color] The waiter stared at her mustache and then replied after a moment, [color=#C9A44C]“Absolutely not, madam.”[/color] Marina didn’t even blink. [color=#7D7FDB]“Two hundred gold.”[/color] A strangled sound escaped him as he quickly denied her, [color=#C9A44C]“No. Absolutely not.”[/color] [color=#7D7FDB]“Three hundred.”[/color] Marina said instantly, because she had always believed money was a skeleton key. [color=#C9A44C]“No.”[/color] His voice rose. [color=#C9A44C]“Madam—sir—[i]whatever you are[/i], I cannot.”[/color] Marina’s eyes narrowed and she insisted: [color=#7D7FDB]“Four hundred.”[/color] [i][color=#C9A44C]“No.”[/color][/i] [color=#7D7FDB]“Five.”[/color] [i][b][color=#C9A44C]“No!”[/color][/b][/i] [color=#7D7FDB]“Six.”[/color] She sounded personally offended at this point. The waiter’s gaze flicked toward the roped section. Marina figured he expected that scarred man to appear behind him and remove his spine through his mouth. [color=#C9A44C]“I— I will lose my job.”[/color] [color=#7D7FDB]“I will buy you a better job.”[/color] Marina hissed, [color=#7D7FDB]“Seven hundred.”[/color] [color=#C9A44C]“No.”[/color] [color=#7D7FDB]“Eight.”[/color] [i][b][color=#C9A44C]“No. No, no, no.”[/color] [/b][/i] He began edging backward, tray wobbling. Marina lifted a hand. [color=#7D7FDB]“Fine. One thousand.”[/color] The waiter looked like he might faint on the spot. [color=#C9A44C]“I’m sorry.”[/color] He whispered, eyes wide. [color=#C9A44C]“I’m sorry, I’m [i]so[/i] sorry.”[/color] And then he turned and walked away at a fast pace that was technically still professional. Marina watched him go, her shoulders slumping; a long groan escaped her chest before she could stop it. She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, staring at the roped section as if expecting Lucian to whip his head around and lock eyes with her through the room. [color=#7D7FDB][b][i]Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.[/i][/b] [i]Recover. Recover now![/i][/color] She lowered her hand slowly and brought her fingers to her mustache and began to thoughtfully stroke the curled end as if that had been her intention the entire time. Then she adjusted her top hat a millimeter. That wasn't enough, [i]obviously[/i], so she lifted her opera glasses again with purpose. And then, unable to help herself, she let the opera glasses find her brother again, seated in that corner like a prince at tea with monsters. [color=#7D7FDB][i]Oh, Lucian[/i][/color], she thought, [color=#7D7FDB][i]What have you gotten yourself into?[/i][/color][/color]