Place; New Jersey; Gotham, time 6:23 pm, event; Gotham Gala; the charity event, hosted by you.

Amber sat there at table, looking onto the crowd indifferently; her piercing grey eyes squinted remotely watching the groups of billionaires, millionaires— whatever, some of them were waltzing with one another, while the ones who weren’t competent in anything physical socialized with each other, while some few just sat and watched; with a drink in hand, of course. She held her glass of wine in her (gloved) hand, lifting it up to her painted lips, sipping on it.

This woman seemed..”different” than the rest of them; most of the other men and women in attendance were socializing with one another, but she wasn’t.

She was reserved..Though not shy.

Amber glanced over to the side, peaking from under her eyebrows; at you, you were sitting beside her at her table suddenly, her eyes started examining what you wore, how you looked —she felt a small sense of familiarity look at you..Though she ignored it— delicately placing down her wine glass, she shifted her sitting position, crossing her leg over the other.

“..Amber, Amber Petrov of Petrov oil company, кто ты?” She greeted first; her voice was blunt; quick to the point, smooth yet flat and thickly Russian accented— now you knew it was..Obsidia’; her voice was very recognizable, y’know..from seeing her do her “vigilante”— or “antihero?”, work. Hm, she’s the CEO of Petrov Oil, which is in cahoots with your business, huh.