Zania and Caius
D’Onofrio Management made a sizable donation to the police department every year, and as the man who would eventually be signing those checks, Caius was expected to be at the fundraiser where it changed hands. It was just like every other fundraiser event at the country club, to him -- everyone dressed up, but not too dressed up, mingling with the same people, drinking the same drinks. It was boring and he didn’t really want to be there. Or maybe he was just tired and cranky from the magical expenditure the night before. He felt like he looked tired, even after smearing some of Reagan’s concealer under his eyes.
In any case, he’d dressed in almost all black with just some burgundy accents, and he was staying out of the center of the party as much as possible, hoping he also looked unapproachable to most people. He didn’t feel much like chatting. Caius lost track of his wife at some point, but he didn’t try to find her, lingering near the bar on the right side of the large ballroom and sipping on his drink, dark eyes roaming the crowd.
While these parties tended to be bland, Zania liked the break in the monotony. She liked the opportunity to dress up. The red dress she was wearing hugged her curves, showing enough skin to garner attention, but not so much to be trashy. It was a chance to prove people wrong, to show them she could fit in if she wanted to, with even her locks pulled back and styled, rather than left to be wild. Parties like this also allowed her to interact with people that normally wouldn’t set foot in her shop, that she wanted to gossip with but wouldn’t pick up the phone to call. A number of those people were in the room tonight, but Caius was the first tone she laid eyes on at an approachable time. Gabriel was deep in conversation, so she gave his arm a little squeeze before excusing herself and wandering over to Caius.
“You look tired,” she said as she approached him. It wasn’t just the shadows under his eyes that may or may not have been there, but a slight shift in his aura. She was still learning to read them, and while there was very little she’d figured out, energy level was one of the easier readings. Of course, that was all that was simple about Caius. The rest of his aura was a mystery, one she’d yet to address.
Caius saw Zania on her way over -- she was difficult to miss in any crowd, but especially this one where most people were wearing muted colors, Zania stood out like some exotic bird -- and decided he was all right with talking to her. She was one of the few, even if they rubbed each other the wrong way sometimes. Caius gave a soft huff and a humorless smirk at her comment and lifted his glass for another sip. “I feel tired,” he confirmed once he’d swallowed some scotch. “You look lovely this evening. Enjoying yourself?” He’d spotted her already, mingling in the crowd with her equally-flashy beau. It amused him a tiny bit to think of what the rest of the stiff Overlook crowd must think of him, the only black man in the room Caius had seen so far, escorting around the wayward Castell daughter. What a pair.
“Thank you,” Zania smiled, always pleased to be complimented, then considered the question for a second before nodding. “I am,” she said, as if that was a surprise, even to her. She didn’t usually come to these things to enjoy herself, but it had been pleasant so far and she was looking forward to the little afterparty of two she planned to have with Gabriel, back in their bedroom. “I like catching up with people. And I like parties, especially those with an open bar,” she smiled. Her eyes were drawn to a little black tendril in his aura that curled around his wrist, then his finger, inching its way towards his glass like a curious snake. She blinked, making sure the glamour over her eyes were in place, then focused back on Caius. “Can I ask why you’re so tired? I hope it’s not work.”