Abu folds the paper up and puts it to the side before folding his hands together. He looks Joseph over almost like a worried father over a child of his own beaten. "<i>Ms.</i>Marvel isn't married. Though I have often wondered about the gold arm band like many bracelets welded together... But how do you feel about it? Do you think you deserve to? That should be all that matters. Ms. Marvel doesn't seem to be the kind, from the little I know about her living under my roof, to care about what one deserves." He got up, almost meticulously. "Iced tea, son? I believe a bit of beverage would be a good refreshment, hmm?" As he got two glasses, not waiting for a response for or against it, Abu continued. "Jealousy. Plain and simple. Likely some of those fans in line did this, yes? Infidels not holding to Allah's ideals, little alone Ms. Marvel's. When has that girl ever attacked without just cause?" He turned to look at Joseph, holding up the pitcher of tea he pulled out of the refrigerator.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, Kamala had pulled off the dress once she was up the steps and even out of Joseph's line of vision, and raced into her room, clad  only in her underwear, and quickly, but carefully put on her costume, fixing her mask, and tugging the leggings and hem of the minidress like main uniform. "Three minutes... Papa... Thanks for asking it to be that tight on me getting ready." she muttered to herself as she looked at the mirror to muss her hair and make it like she had been laying down.