Having wandered about the place for such a long time, Mordecai had begun to grow bored. He saw that Garrick fellow, smoking a pipe and snarking to a girl who he did not recognize. Though he was aware that Garrick had no liking for him, Mordecai himself was apathetic about the whole thing. It wouldn't be his problem, though he did admit that if some kind of accident were to occur, he would be more than glad to help the man out. At that thought, he shifted his attention elsewhere.<br/><br/>The one person who could have happened to stick out more than himself caught Mordecai's brief scan of the place, the short, blue-haired girl Arya. Even Mordecai's own clothes, looking rather odd from having to be tailored so as to fit him properly, were not quite as out-of-place Arya's work suit, as his own clothes were far too cultured to be worked in. As if to give her own clothes something to feel good about, he reminded himself that at least she had sleeves. He snorted and shook his head, and walked over to her little corner.<br/><br/>Gently plucking a glass of Chardonnay from one of the trays, he stepped to her and loomed over as she ate quietly. Bowing down stiffly and a bit too formally, Mordecai offered the Chardonnay and some advice. "You know that the more you try to hide away, the more likely it is you are to be found?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>