Blane merely had smiled and had no idea why she was rolling her beautiful eyes but she was. He groans. Trying to hide the fact his injuries were indeed making him weaker. "Crazy? No. To be politically correct you should say Radically Eccentric." he teases. Whispering this to her BEFORE Lady McScrouge waltzed in like the Queen Of Divas. He looks at her. And shakes his head.He hadn't seen silk and pearls of that extent in a long time.<br/><br/>He listens on as the Queen of Diva's rambled on and on and on. He looks at her mother. "Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. I'd rather not grow old while you decide to...<span style="font-style: italic">grace</span>me with your acknowledgement." he says. He said grace sarcastically. Enough to draw the Ice Queens attention back to him. He looks at her. "I'm in agreement. Tell me who you think I am. I mean...I heard you but I prefer being addressed than discussed." he grins. "Or is the Ice Queen too big and bad for manners?" he taunts.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Her mother's eyes went wide. Shock and anger at him daring to speak to her in such a manner. "You are the american rockstar-model-dancer. Blane Lancer. Age 18. You are also the biggest bad ass bad boy. Hardcore daredevil. A youth entirely successful at dodging anyone and everyones attempts to marry you."</span><br/><br/>Blane thinks. That all sounded...familiar but try as he might...it just wouldn't...click. He holds his head. Images flashing through his mind. He shakes it when it clears. "She may be right Odelia. I can't remember clearly. Just fuzzy images. Nothing more."