A smile couldn't help but manifest on Manson's face as a particular person came up to his VIP table.<br/><br/>"I managed to get a deal for you." He quipped to her, not exactly telling the truth as he was simply selling her at wholesale rather then at profit prices. Accepting the money, he motioned to another person who escorted the young woman away. There was an incentive to supplying her at face value, which was only a recent event. The music blared, and the bodies danced. Bored, Manson reclined back in his chair; one hand idley shaping a rock in a black, clawed hand. His diamond carbon shield manifesting in only the lower part of his arm. His posture was slouched, open, and leaned back in the chair. More then anytime now he appeared as a King in his own dilapidated kingdom. The night was boring, and it'd be a matter of time before his plans came into action, what it came down to was who would act force. Would the heroes force his hand or would they play into it?