A ravishing night down in Gotham central, along the waters of the shiny shore of what they might call the Gotham's sea, boats and yachts traveled about, but none had been as luxurious as the IceBerg Lounge's yacht, decorated nicely with a symbol of an umbrella and a top hat on the edge of the yacht, showing off the decor of illuminated blue, soft lights, for a fancy atmosphere such as tonight.

A party was set in stone, one for the elite and wealthy, of course it would be no surprise that Oswalda was here herself, speaking to guests and entertaining a few by her words, making sure to keep those who would cause trouble, distracted by her actual motives. This lounge for others had been a bore to some, especially a journalist who was simply there for a story, now invited onto a yacht not meant for shaking waters in the high currents of the moon above.

You, as the journalist, had been away from others, keeping to yourself at the food bar, a glass of liquor in your hands in your elegant attire, suit and fitting in within the crowd, even if you seemed alone. There had been a bird ice sculpture right beside you, seemingly there to either keep the cool of the drinks that contained alcohol or used with alcohol instead. Either way, it was just a sculpture. You had your eyes on the melting ice for some time. This was until there was a clear 'excuse me' coming from behind. You turned your head, being ready to apologize before you noticed it was Oswalda Cobblepot herself, standing before you with a smile made for money.