She urged her companion towards one of the groups, led by a grizzled, swaggering man in an admiral's ceremonial uniform. His uniform was clearly tailored and he must have been a very wealthy man here in Manhattan, but his militaristic-utilist hairstyle and the coarse stubble covering his cheeks suggested a much simpler beginning to his career. He himself was surrounded by a crowd of younger civilian nodders who literally devoured his every word boasting of his military accomplishments - whether they were rightfully his or not.
Fiorella and Damien walked closer to this group so that the admiral and his younger fans would notice them, patiently waiting in silence for their attention to turn to her and her mysterious companion. She conjured a polite, social smile on her mouth peeking out from beneath her mask. She remained relaxed and natural in the face of her foe, a testament to her own self-control, and her palm gripping her companion's arm was ready to smother any irritated remarks from Damien's mouth towards the Admiral with a strong grip.
"Admiral Ryan Tiberius, Colorado Fleet. I must say, I've dedicated my life to protecting beauties like you."
The Admiral turned his attention to masked Fiorella, who almost instinctively briefly held out her glass of red wine to her companion - and offered the Admiral her hand for a polite, social kiss.
"It is a pleasure, Admiral Tiberius. Although my manners dictate that I also introduce myself to you, my mask relieves me of such social obligation and I remain that mysterious stranger who should be at every social event. Nevertheless, I will give you a slight hint - I make living with my fingers and the harmonious melodies I make real with them."
She replied slowly and carefully with her melodic voice, hiding her natural hispanic accent. Admiral Tiberius laughed loudly again and took an indiscriminate look at the socially dressed and disguised Fiorella de Marco from head to toe.
"I didn't even know masseuses could take it this far, hah. What about you, my boy, what do you do and how did you pick up such a hottie?"
Admiral Tiberius turned to Damien Morreti and offered his hand in a manly introduction. At the moment, he apparently considered his dark haired companion to be nothing more than a gorgeous gold digger, and so it was he who became the main target of his attention.
Fiorella's face still did not leave her polite smile and she turned her attention to Damien as well, with the tightening grip of her hand around his arm.
"I kill people." Absolute confidence and zero hesitation. The entire crowd who, at least up until this point in time, were absorbed entirely in the Admiral's grandeur were now perfectly silent. It must have just been a joke, surely. A playful way to tell the Admiral to be more polite to his date. But if this truly was an Admiral who had seen war and men die, then he would know. He would know all too well what that look in Damien's eyes meant. And the fact his teeth revealed by a full smile would open a yielding throat.
So while everyone else laughed this off, save for the Admiral who now knew something. Damien dispensed with a handshake. Firmness being in abundance and bordering on painful. Then and only then did the carefully rehearsed politeness come back to the forefront. "She's a singer. Far more famous and successful than I am. I'm just a banker and handle foreclosures mostly. My boss got me a backstage pass to one of her concerts and I actually had a chance to meet her and talk a little. I think we hit it off since she asked me to be here." Foreclosures. A sick joke if there ever was one. But with a modicum of truth to it, at least if you interpreted it creatively.
What was immediately noticeable was how proud and focused he seemed to be on the woman beside him. It prompted more than a little envy and insecurity to the surface from some of the other couples here. His posture suggested she meant a lot to him, because unless someone was actively speaking to him then his entire and undivided attention was on her. Something as subtle as that was a rarity. Especially when the truth was ugly and half the couples here were dictated by an hourly rate or simply vanity.
As the whole situation developed relatively peacefully and her honor was upheld, the grip around Damien's arm loosened. Fiorella took a light sip of red wine from her glass, and it was evident in her expression how carefully she had savored the Gallic wine with all her taste buds. It was a gourmet experience for her and she was enjoying it to the fullest.
"John is exaggerating my accomplishments a bit."
She smiled politely, obviously acquiescing to Damien's game in an attempt to arouse the envy of as many of the ladies and escorts present as possible. Again that bright white smile on her partially covered face.
"The truth is, I am a pianist, hence the previous remark about my own fingers - I must use all ten. Even so, there are still some difficult pieces that are still beyond my own abilities and I still have much to learn."
Admiral Tiberius was still recovering from his encounter with Damien, and decided to cover the whole incident with a feigned social laugh to save face. His eyes finally relaxed from their imprisonment of the psychopath present at Fiorella de Marco's side and re-established his dominance in the circle of his admirers with a present glance and nod to each of them.
"Of course, of course, it's a great pleasure to meet you both. Perhaps we shall all hear you play the piano some day, Miss."
Fiorella nodded her head slightly in appreciation towards the Admiral in a sign that all was well and gave another of her smiles to the nodders standing around as well. Her light evening perfume was already announcing her presence quite unmistakably to everyone in the group and she was not so easily banished from their minds.
"Perhaps so - who knows. This is only my first time here and I would not want to impose my presence significantly."
Her feigned modesty was in exact contrast to what she was quite unmistakably trying to do from her companion's perspective.
"Tell me, Admiral Tiberius, how does such a man of action as yourself get into such company as this?"
The supernatural calm that radiated from her entire inhuman being was contagious along with the way she fixed her blue gaze on Admiral Tiberius. She seemed so harmless, almost fragile - how could she ever be dangerous or considered as a threat? She was just a lovely woman in an evening dress and her attitude was completely relaxed.
"Well, don't tell anyone, but someone like me has to keep an eye on the local bad guys around here, y'know. I don't know if you're aware of it, but there's a lot of lobbying going on between businessmen and politicians at meetings like this. But, back to you - how do you like your first time here?"
Fiorella turned her attention to her male companion and protector, who was given the floor again.
By now there was whispering between the women, who despite having immense disdain for each other, were unified in gossip. Mostly about how good these two must be together especially when alone, since they had such palpable chemistry despite the crowd of strangers. Needless to say it left a lot to be desired in the personal lives of the people perceiving the situation this way. Damien could hear some of the chattering but did his best not to lend his ear to any of it, lest he start laughing and break character. No, he was focused on the part he was playing. Though perhaps he was a little too good at how he was selling it. Enough that it might start coming across as genuine, going so far as to play with the fingers of his date and doodle shapes and hidden messages on her skin with his index. Either he was just that bored or anxious in a crowd like this, it might have also just been an act to sell the image of being an overly affectionate plus one.
It almost seemed like he was disappointed when the Admiral turned to speak to him again. He had hoped the previous exchange would have been the last one and his response would have motivated the Admiral to move on. Unfortunately, this had not been the case so now he had to further humor the fool's curiosity. "The Host was very welcoming. Told us to feel at home. I think the music's nice, so is the food and decor. But honestly I'd still be enjoying myself even if all of that was turned down a notch in extravagance and it's no secret why." Without needing to convey it in words, he tiled his head towards de Marco. Making it clear to the onlookers and the Admiral asking the question that he was having a good time here simply on account of having the best company. A simple and effective way to not have to talk too much to a bloated stack of flesh and pride meant solely for displaying medals.
Furthermore, by hinting at the fact that the Host met with them in person, he was suggesting both his date and himself were important people. VIPs even among the "illustrious" gathering of people invited here. And it was a well established fact that the Host rarely wasted his time on meeting every single attendant. So if he had truly taken the time to meet these two, they must truly be worth something. Though despite putting up an almost perfect performance, Damien's composure was truly being put to the test. This graying nuisance's loud and proud nature was patently obnoxious. He could only put up with this for so long before he started to behave like the real him rather than this caricature.
Although she was not currently a participant in the 'courtesy' exchange between Admiral Tiberius and the masked Damien Morreti, she was still present in their conversation, watching the two men closely - the expressions on their faces, their voices, and their posture. The tension between the two men was rising despite the seemingly respectful words, Admiral Tiberius, true to his temper and reputation, was preparing to go on a triumphant counter-offensive with the tacit approval of his fans. A clash of opinion between the two roosters.
Fiorella gently and connivingly squeezed her companion's arm, perhaps in an attempt to tame his contempt for the admiral present, and decided to turn the attention back on herself.
"I am sure you will have the opportunity to hear me play the piano, Admiral, whether it be tonight or at the next such social event."
She broke the uncomfortable silence of tension between the two men with her melodious voice and gave them both one of her many white smiles. She gave a long blink to show off her long eyelashes and her blue eyes, and continued.
"For now, you will have to excuse us, Admiral. It is my first evening in this select company and I would like to meet as many of the guests as possible."
She said, perhaps a little guiltily, and Admiral Tiberius laughed loudly and nodded.
"Without further ado, Miss. I myself remember how I first felt here amongst these wealthy spineless bastards, hah."
Admiral Tiberius said it perhaps a little too loudly considering the number of indignant expressions turned in his direction. But the grizzled naval officer clearly didn't care in this case either - clearly social pretense was not to his liking, and his position among Manhattan's elite was unshakable at the moment.
"It has been a pleasure, Admiral Tiberius. I bid you my goodbye, for now."
She gave a slight nod of her head in farewell, prompting her companion to leave with a very light gesture of her palm resting on his hand. A whole mixture of silent disapproving, indignant, jealous and interested looks accompanied them from the circle around the admiral.
When they were a distance out of earshot, Fiorella de Marco finished her red Gallic wine and set her empty crystal glass down on one of the many refreshment tables - which, as was customary at such events, were virtually untouched. All the ladies present in their evening dresses and robes, Fiorella De Marco not excepted, hardly touched the food at social events, and their disapproving glances involuntarily obliged their male companions to do the same.
"The culture of your society is still something that never ceases to amaze me - although, if I am being completely honest, there are such people in my culture as well."
She assessed in a hushed tone her first VIP encounter on Manhattan to her companion. Despite the tense situation and potential scandal, she still seemed relaxed and calm, as if the whole thing was an elaborate game to her and nothing more.
He sighed wistfully. Clearly not enthusiastic about the notion of meeting more people like the Admiral here. Though he decided to not let frustration ruin what could otherwise be a good time, leaning in as if to speak to his date tenderly. "Whoever you want. But one thing. You said you wanted to dance. We've done an awful lot of.. well, not that." It was an open ended suggestion she was left with. While people like the Admiral were absolutely frustrating, he was definitely enjoying how easy it was to manipulate the reactions of people here. It was a sick pleasure but a pleasure all the same.
"How far do you think we could go? Making people feel insecure and jealous, I mean." A fiendish smirk cracked out on his face on a moment before being replaced by a fairly innocent but absolutely rehearsed smile. This experience was only as tolerable and entertaining as it was since he'd come here with a date on the same wavelength. He might have made an excuse to leave and do better things with his time had this not been the case.
At the brief mention of teasing the other guests, she clenched her white teeth in a gesture that resembled a playful predator about to play with its prey. But she didn't look cute doing it like other beautiful women with similar slightly suggestive gestures - it was genuine and sincere. It spoke of her mentality and inhuman nature compared to other ordinary people. She was not like them - and not like even him.
"Hrmm, we shall see."
She replied diplomatically and vaguely, maintaining her impartiality in her verbal expressions. She blinked in amusement and gave him a long wink.
"I would like to dance, yet your dances are either boringly bland or pointless. Truth is, I did not practice them any further after seeing them the first time. I do apologize for that."
Boring, bland or pointless. She'd just gone ahead and summed up this entire event for him and not even on purpose. "I'm not familiar with the way your people dance. You also ruin the beauty of simple things with flamboyance." Clearly he held the excessively opulent and pompous nature of her people in contempt. And it was unlikely that would ever change. The Outcasts were masters in one art in particular, and that was ruining the nuance of things with philosophical drivel that went nowhere. That, or vapid assertions of superiority which were rendered meaningless in the face of a loaded gun.
"Pick us another crowd or move us closer to the music. You're the lady, so you get to decide." The contempt faded a little to make way for manners. It was absolutely still there simmering under the surface and would reemerge if provoked. But for now he was trying to actually enjoy his time here with her and ignore the fact they were extremely different people back in the real world.
She squinted her eyes and smiled mysteriously from beneath her mask. She listened carefully to his objections and thoroughly analyzed his state of mind, which was more than evident in his body language, the intonation of his voice, and even the way his lips moved.
"To understand our dances you must understand what we are like as people. Our dances are something that has been with us throughout our entire history. They are in our blood."
"Once upon a time, back on Earth, life was relatively difficult for our people - especially as civilization progressed. We kept up - barely, but that did not stop us from enjoying our life, celebrating it and tasting all it had to offer."
She gave another long blink, showing off her long eyelashes and the prominent eyeliner intensifying her steely blue gaze. She spoke her words at a slow, almost explanatory pace during this brief cultural exchange.
"Our dances embody life at its essence. They are meant to stir our blood and delight our souls. They are sensual, like slow ballroom dances for pairs, yet also fast and challenging, like wiggling on a nightclub dance floor, and last but not least, they require trust between the two partners."
"Learning our dances is only half the experience - the other half is living them, feeling them, being possessed by them."
She spoke the last words in a half-whisper, perhaps to add to the whole mystery and strangeness of her own culture. She briefly raised her two hands to the level of her head and snapped her fingers several times in a wild tempo similar to a Spanish guitar. Closing her eyes, she let herself be absorbed for several long seconds by the music she was only thinking in her head and swayed her body to its rhythm along with a few quick steps of the Hispanic tango.
Once she was satisfied with her demonstration, she opened her eyes again and, a fleeting smile on her lips, continued the discussion.
"This is what I miss in your dances - appropriate and unbridled exuberance. It should be noted that we reserve such for complete strangers if we see fit. In fact, it is rude to refuse an offer for a dance."
With the demonstration and explanation she gave over, he blinked wordlessly. He wasn't confused or dumbfounded - just thinking. After three seconds of just this, he raised a hand and spoke quietly. "Wait here, I'll be right back." Whether or not he was keeping up with the charade was called into question when he reached out for her hand. Once he had it, he raised it to his mouth for a swift kiss before briskly walking away.
While guests were generally advised to stay away from the stage where the live band was performing, nobody seemed inclined to stop Damien. In fact, security which was perfectly out of sight but still present were under strict instructions to give him a free run of the place. The band themselves were a little surprised to be approached so directly, quickly throwing themselves into a musical flourish so they could pause as if breaking into silence for another song. Whatever words were exchanged between Damien and the band was unclear for the moment, distance and background noise making it impossible to eavesdrop.
But just as swiftly as he'd broken away from his date, he came back. Offering his hand as a frenetic jazz fusion number kicked into full gear. It was thoroughly exuberant, irregular in its tempo but played passionately. Something only a band of this stripe could deliver, with their ability to adapt and near flawlessly replicate foreign sounds. Strings were plucked, rattles shaken, drums struck, and the brass married it all together. The floor was set, and so Damien made his request. "Will you show me?"
![[Image: GAy6bGA.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/GAy6bGA.gif)