Ask who they are?

As you near them you ask, politely, who they are. The woman continues to ignore you, finally destroying the man under her nail, picking up a tiny thimble of liquid. She downs it, shaking her head at the strength of the droplet.

The male however, in his ivory robes, turns to you. You notice the robes are predominantly white, bar some patterns floating under the surface. "We are of the Order of Ivory, my son. How can we assist you?"

You watch the girl for a moment, but she is still not interested in the conversation, the man looking at you beatifically, benevolently.