Ballroom

@Scarecrow She noticed things about him that the average person wouldn't. Maybe she was pampering her ego a little too much - something Jaina was always guilty of - but it couldn't be helped. When one was as gifted as she was it simply had to be used. She felt her smile stall pleasantly on her lips, stuck in an amused grin as she mentally jotted down the way he held onto the champagne flute but didn't actually drink it. She herself was not so immune to the taste of alcohol and she lifted up the glass to her plump, pink lips to take a small sip of the bubbling beverage before saying anything to her new found target of amusement. Upon finishing her sip she extended an eloquent hand with slender fingers decorated in diamonds and silver rings to shake his. "It's a pleasure. I am Jaina, Jaina Hudson if I may be so bold. I may be out of line by saying this," she began, letting her hand slide out of Jonathon's and return to settle daintily on the neck of her glass, "but I have never seen you at one of these events before. Perhaps you are part of the university that this charity is benefiting? I'm going to be blunt and say it, but I attend many of these awful social functions and I can remember the faces. You are not one of the normal people I have seen or expect to see here..." She paused and tilted her head, truly trying to take in the entirety of the man's rather blank expression. Such secrets already she could feel. "And I don't mean in the physical sense."

@White Rabbit The raggedy professor - while he hated to admit it Jonathon pulled off the look so well. Of course, appearances were easy to put on when you understood how people would view you. No one suspected him when he remained in the visage of welcoming teacher. Downsides may include your fellow psychologists laughing at your work and being disrespected by 75% of the student population but he could take it if it meant keeping secrets. His suit, while not a tuxedo like most guests of the charity ball, was put together with articles from his teaching attire. Donned in a dark green jacket, as well as brown slacks and vest his look consisted of more muted colors. Jonathon didn't particularly like to stand out at social events, sticking to the walls like a fly and making small talk with whoever dared to approach. Take the man across from him for instance - a fellow professor at the college, nice enough but easy to read. He wasn't a fan of Jonathon's work and he could tell. His sentences were flowery and served to create a better image than his true self. Deciding to play along the professor merely nodded his head from time to time and allowed the man to speak. All the while he found his eyes wandering to the rest of the patrons in the room. People of varying ages, some in more expensive clothing than others. Status was everything at these parties - the more you had the more you were looked upon. "...your work with Doctor, oh, what's his name? I can never remember these things." The man's voice cuts into his thoughts and draws Jonathon back to their conversation. "Doctor Song, I presume? I'm glad you appreciate our little project." They chuckled and nodded to him, only for the noise to be cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps. Jonathon was mildly surprised that the figure in question was there for him, and not his company. "Well, with that reasoning how could I not accept?" His features stretch into a somewhat charming smile as he takes the glass from her hand. Noticing his initial talking partner is still in the vicinity Jonathon gives him a knowing glance before waving him off. He'll let them think what they like of the gesture. Once they're finally gone he returns his attention to the newcomer - bright gown, airy voice. Why, if he didn't know any better he'd say she was someone important. Not one for drinking Jonathon simply held the champagne flute in one hand, extending his other for a well-timed handshake. "Jonathon Crane, and you are...?"

@Scarecrow It was a charity event like no other. Or that's how it felt every time Bruce Wayne was a contributor. Jina had come dressed for the occasion at least. Her father had made a rather hefty donation to the cause as well, which meant she got to have the benefit of being dolled up and coming in to show herself off. The gown she wore hugged her torso, amplifying the size of her bosom by pushing it up to form a nice line of cleavage that the lighting in the room helped glorify. The waist cinched off before flaring out into a long, chiffon skirt that moved with every step she took. The slit went up mid-thigh, giving a peek to her toned, lean legs and the diamond decked stilettos she power-walked in. To top it all off she had tucked in a few white pins to her side, looping updo, making sure they popped against the dark of her hair. White was her colour and everyone knew it. Which probably explained why she had such an affinity for the other side of herself. It was rather ironic, however, that white be a pure colour while she be so sinful. The thought of it made her smile into her champagne flute as she took a sip, scanning the ballroom to see if there was anyone worth her time. There were old men and women, dressed in boring clothes, businessmen huddled close together as they discussed stocks. Each image ran through her mind as quickly as she could run as White Rabbit until they settled on a shadow. It was something a normal person wouldn't pick up on, too engrossed in themselves to really give it a good look. But he was there, closer to the wall, speaking casually but with a mild disinterest - or disgust? - to whoever it was that was facing him, all JIna could see was his back. And he had the posture of someone who knew what he wanted, but he was withdrawn enough to not let anyone know what exactly his biggest dreams and desires held. It was a nightmare that Jina wanted to walk right into and she found herself locking in, taking gliding steps across the few people chatting, even cutting into a group and ignoring someone who placed a hand on her arm to grab her attention. On her way over she picked another champagne flute, holding it daintily in a ringed hand, until she was finally close to extend it out to the man that had caught her eye. "Please accept this, it'd be a shame for you to pass this night without at least a little bit of alcohol in your system," she said in a soft voice, loud enough for the man who had accompanied this mystery to hear her and notice her presence, stopping midsentence to evaluate her, even looking around the room to see where she had come from.