Maybe it's his upbringing. Maybe there is something about the etiquette of it all that just makes him fall back into old patterns; which in turn makes him sink deeper into the shifting of this place. Whatever it is, Wesley slips into this world all too easily, walking around the deck with a manner so uppity and stiff it's surprising he doesn't snap in half.

That is, until someone trips him and he goes down with a yelp, arms windmilling. He comes up a moment later, staring at Lindsey with sputtering indignation, looking around quickly to see if anyone saw.

"You!"

It comes out accusing, then confused because he doesn't know this man – how would he, unimportant as he looks. Newly-rich, surely, from the looks of it, from the way he carries himself.

From the audacity of what he just did.

"How dare you."

There is only one thing he can do, really. Wesley takes off a glove and sniffs in utter disdain. Before he slaps Lindsey across the face with it.