He made fun of the Englishman, and Abigail laughed slightly, raising her eyebrows at him, saying, “Hey, I liked him!” She smirked and shrugged, adding, “Well, maybe I would’ve liked him more had he given me a word in edgewise. But the Queen, dear Wilson, is far too exciting a topic for him to even breathe between his words.” A fake British accent slipped in – she really couldn’t help it, but she managed to get rid of it before anyone heard her making fun of the other owner. Although, she was starting to see the dog and pony show of it all and was honestly caring less.
She caught the eye of a passing waiter and stepped forward, handing him her empty glass with a quick flash of a smile. Turning her back to the party, she made a face at her fighter, not at all excited about the prospect of leaving this party in favor of a mutant ball, as he put it. This place might be dreary, but she could only imagine what a bunch of collared superhuman people did with guards watching their every move. He mentioned the caviar, though, and that put a smile on her face.
“You could’ve asked what it was,” she defended herself, pulling her arms up to cross over her chest, and pointed out, “I mean, you saw me not eating it.” One hand came up to rub at her shoulder. She had been nearly completely healed through a combination of doctors and healers, but there was a little bit of residual soreness that wouldn’t quite go away. “Do you really think that would be more fun?” She asked rhetorically. “For me, I mean.” She dropped her arms, explaining, “This might be a bit of a drag, but I’m used to it. Some of these people are friendly.” And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to have fun tonight.