The Morbid Socialite often tried to be more subtle in their observations of the various crowds they found themselves in, but there was something about one of his classmates that caught his attention and refused to let go. It was a very notable something and the Socialite could not rest until his curiosity was sated. And the Socialite rather liked rest.

They turned in their seat just enough to address the Tailor, keeping their voice low in a trial of how much the Tailor wanted others to know. "Excuse me, sir," he started, "or madam or any between or outside of. I couldn't help but feel that your face was somewhat familiar. While I do have a theory that you may enlighten me on, I felt it better to ask directly: did you happen to be climbing the roof of the dome some short time ago? Of course, if I am mistaken, feel free to correct me. Goodness knows, I've mistaken many a soul for many other." The Socialite gave a chiming laugh, something to take the edge off what might have been an intrusive question and, hopefully, soften it into a polite conversation starter.