You wouldn't like how I dance

Ian

Comparatively speaking, Pulse was still a very new dance troupe. The fact that they'd managed to make the jump to one of Denver's larger theatre spaces this quickly probably said a lot about the caliber of the dancers. Some of the names on the program were familiar to ballet enthusiasts. Shannon Clark - a former principle dancer for the Colorado Ballet, and Kane McRory, a former prodigy who'd disappeared from the scene for a while and was presently attempting a comeback. Other dancers were less widely known, but the troupe itself had gotten glowing reviews for their performance over the winter. Perhaps Arionna had read up on them, or perhaps she'd seen the show listed on the theater's spring schedule and found the title intriguing.

However she got there, she'd find the theater full but not packed (it was, after all, a weeknight.) The seats were steadily filling in, with people murmuring to each other in low tones as they flipped through their programs. The show was called Hunger. A couple of quotes inside the front page hinted at man's endless capacity for it - both in passionate drive and destruction. Perhaps, if Arionna looked further, she would find Ian's picture among the dancers. Perhaps she wasn't much for programs.

Ian, of course, was back stage. Stretching and pacing around with the other dancers. The stage was still veiled by a heavy black curtain. Once or twice, he glanced out through a crack in the fabric, but mostly he stayed focused. Withdrawn into his own thoughts. Keeping his limbs loose. At some point the stage manager dimmed the house lights and the audience grew still.

Arionna

It might not have seemed it, but Arionna enjoyed art; dance, painting, and music were all a quiet joy. Her great fondness was for violins of all things, though she did enjoy dance that emphasized the more natural forms of the body. How could one not? To revel in what you were born with, to take it completely and fully, to push beyond your own boundaries...well...she had a certain admiration for that. Sadly she was not as exposed to specific art forms as she would have liked to be. A day like tonight was the perfect opportunity to remedy it.

She did not seek them out. Certainly she kept running into the people she was learning to dislike, but it was not a purposeful meeting. And like those times, here she was, not too far from the stage, nor the other mage. Though Ian, like a few others, had the benefit of not being disliked, if only because they had such little exposure to one another; give it time, she's bound to find a flaw.

She crossed her legs in the seat, positioned in the second row from the stage, her bag next to her feet, and the program in her lap. As she waited, she idly slipped her fingers along the paper, passing each page after careful consideration before Ian, and perhaps the others' caught her attention. I was not a sort she could forget the face of. Grace, certainly, but not Ian (one could say that Kalen was also unforgettable only because she always pictured a ferret with his face).

There is a soft bit of air that puffs out from her nostrils, and a small smirk that rises on her lips. No one will see after all. Then quietly she closed the program and focused her attention ahead, feeling even more intrigued than she had been before.

Ian

And so the lights went out. And the curtain came up.

The stage was bare - painted with light instead of set pieces. The designer had a skilled hand, evoking subtle emotional notes with shifting colors and the smooth play of light and shadow. The dancers were all in simple costumes. At the start of the performance they wore little makeup, though this would shift as the night progressed - as they became less human and more primal.

Ian was at the center of the opening dance. But if he noticed Arionna seated in the second row, he didn't give any indication. Indeed, his focus seemed exclusively drawn to the two female dancers on stage with him. The first piece was a flirtation. Three bodies weaving together, drawn to each other before slipping just out reach. The music was an original composition - lightly percussive with a lilting violin melody. As the dance changed and flowed, it become something deeper. This threading pulse of sound that felt like creeping hunger. And then the dancers interlocked - touching, sliding elegantly around each other, pulling at their costumes. The light faded to silhouette.

As the show continued, more dancers were showcased. In pairs and in groups, they hunted each other. Devoured each other. At first it was ecstatic - joyful. But as the show went on it began to spin out of control. The choreography turned dark and violent, culminating at the end with only one dancer remaining. Not Ian - but a different man. Older. Tall, with bright red hair. Blood dripped from his mouth as he surveyed the stage. And then he looked out into the audience and began to move toward them...

And the stage went black on a final, lingering pulse of sound.

Afterwards, the audience cheered as the dancers took their final bow on stage. One or two of them got bouquets of flowers. When Ian came out, he caught Arionna's eye and held it for a moment. He might have been smiling, just a little.

Then the show was over, and people were getting up to leave. Before Arionna could file out with them, Ian stuck his head out of a door near the stage and beckoned for her to follow him.

Arionna

Could there have been a better performance to speak to her?

Primal. Hunger. Blood. Passion. What it truly was to be an animal, and to embrace it, letting it wrap you up and guide you.Certainly she enjoyed rationality as well, but the crux of true magic hinged on the primal energy of the individual. What was ti that truly fueled the witch's magic other than the will of the gods? It was always the desire, the emotional connection to the end. A witch who has no anger to those she wishes to punish...how well can she convince her patron to aid her?

But it wasn't just that. There was just something enthralling about returning the basics, rebuilding oneself, pure, untainted by the artificial. So to say that she did not feel something from such a performance would be entirely false. She felt a great deal. Some of which she found confusing, and some that were so deeply familiar and yet so long absent, that she was pleased to know them again.

Not just applause from this woman. Not just admiration, but standing applause, loud applause, enthusiastic applause. Applause that slowed just a little as her attention met with Ian's, and held.

When they began to file out, she slipped along the row to step out into the aisle and take her leave, though there was Ian, beckoning. And how can one deny that? She felt so elevated that the potential continuation was far more rewarding than what her sense might tell her.

She moved past those who had been heading up the aisle behind her to meet up with him. Her lips curled into a small smirk. "I hope you're not interpreting myself as your new groupie."

Ian

"If I got into performing for the groupies, I wouldn't have gone into ballet," Ian noted with a light grin. Perhaps he did have a few fans in the crowd, but most of them were older and more subdued. He held the door just long enough for Arionna to slip past him into the hallway, then he walked back a few steps and leaned against the wall. They were in a backstage area - a closed hallway that led past a few doors, two of which were marked as dressing rooms. Ian was still in the costume he'd had on in the last performance - bare chested with a pair of thin black pants that ended mid-calf. His feet were bare. Up close his makeup looked more intense (as stage makeup always did.) Dark eyeliner framed with crimson glitter and blood-stained lips. He'd wiped off most of the fake blood, but tints of faded red still marked his chest and neck.

He was sweating. Sections of his hair were damp. He'd been in most of the dances and the choreography had been challenging. His performance was... intense, to say the least. Graceful and powerful all at once.

He was still breathing a little heavily.

"So did one of your professors assign this show, or did you actually come of your own volition?"

Arionna

"Ballet doesn't have classy groupies? I'm astonished. Somehow I imagined bottles of expensive wine and caviar on bare chests..." Every now and then, even Ari let a little mirth slip out, it was just wasn't common. She took to the opposite wall, enough to give some space between the two of them, and gave her head a small tilt. Ari, was a young woman, and not the sort to have lived and calmed; she had years before she'd find a sense of serenity in her own emotions. No, for now she was young, and with it came a rather peculiar interest in the opposite sex. Oh she wasn't uneducated, merely inexperienced.

Ian was not helping.

She shifted her attention, as people are want to do when interested, along the obviously fatigued Ian, and then, as if a little uneasy with the whole affair, shifted her gaze down the hall.

"My academic interests are in biology. I have yet to receive requests or demands from biologists to examine different art forms, particularly ballet. Perhaps if I were a painter..."

When she looked back, she kept her eyes up and towards his face. "Thus I came of my own choice. Does that surprise you?"

Ian

"Yes and no. It doesn't surprise me that you came, but I don't usually see... other people like us. Elijah came to one of my shows. That's about it. Not that I mind, really. Easier to keep life... compartmentalized."

And Ian did seem like the type to do that - to keep pieces of himself reserved for different people. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a moment as he tilted his head back against the wall. Resting.

"Did you like it?"

He didn't sound as though he were fishing for compliments. More of an aloof curiosity. After a beat he opened his eyes and looked at her. If he noticed the way her eyes roamed - or rather, refused to roam - he didn't comment on it.

Arionna

"None others have come? And they are in the know of your profession? Seems hardly supportive. When observing the interactions of others, I've noted that relationships seem to involve social support, in the form of attendance. Parents seem to be the most obvious of individuals willing to do it. " She set her bag down on the floor against the wall, sliding her hands behind her back while she watched him. "Is it easier? I'm not very knowledgeable about that sort of thing. Always seems as if one would be unable to do that."

"I did. Deeply. I enjoy seeing an appreciation for the most important aspects of life. What defines all living things really, in the end." Ari tilted her head a little. "If you're tired, I could buy you coffee. Likely something to eat." She stepped from the wall a little, take a few steps down the hall, her boot heels clicking, and leaning forward as if trying to see further than she ought to. "Hmm... I've never been behind a stage before."

Ian

He laughed softly when Arionna spoke of observing human behavior in the same manner one watches animals in a zoo. His expression sobered to something veiled and quiet when she mentioned family (parents.) It didn't seem as though he had any visitors at the moment, but there might very well be people waiting for him somewhere. "I've never invited any of them. It doesn't often come up in conversation."

They were alone in the hall, but voices drifted through the doors of the dressing rooms. Some of the other dancers were talking, laughing. The sound of running water could be faintly detected from the nearby showers. Just as Arionna finished speaking, a middle aged woman with a headset hanging around her neck appeared through the stage door. When she saw Ian, she smiled. "Good show tonight." He acknowledged her with a quiet nod of thanks, and she disappeared through another door at the end of the hallway.

"It's less glamorous back here. The green room could use a new sofa." He seemed to mull over her offer before responding. "I don't drink coffee, but there's a sushi place we could check out. If you don't mind waiting a few minutes."

Arionna

Alexander had suggested she reach out a little. It wasn't easy. Everyone talked as if it were the easiest thing in the world to be friends with someone; to let go of the parts of you that have kept you safe. They made it all seem so simple. It wasn't. And she wasn't entirely certain that she ought to even do it. Life was generally acceptable when alone.

Her brows lift a little at his laugh. "Is it amusing? It's true. Small part of tribal thinking, I imagine." She turned slowly to look back at him, taking several steps closer and tilting her head up to look at him. "The one thing that you seem to hold the most passion for...well." Her lips press against one another hard, her mind mulling over what she says next. "If you inform me of your shows, I'll come to them. I don't see a distinction between who I am in one place and who I am in another. I am who I am, and I don't alter unless I must. So if you find that agreeable, I'd be pleased to provide you that social support."

Danny was the first to get a glimpse at her round about way of asking for help or reaching out. Ari simply hated being direct; it felt like it made her weak, as if she were giving in to what the others wanted.

Her proximity to him, close as it was, became further when another entered the picture. A sudden sense of fear as if one were caught attempting to take a few cookies when they ought not to be.

Arionna gave him a slow nod and stepped back towards her bag. "I can wait."

Ian

Ian had to stifle a laugh at the way Arionna phrased her offer of support. A curl of amusement tugged at one side of his mouth and sparked in his dark eyes. When he tilted his head, the glitter around them caught the light. "And let everyone think I've got a new groupie? Weren't you trying to avoid that?" He didn't attempt to close the distance between them, though Arionna's proximity didn't seem to bother him either. She was a living pattern - warm and beating and alive. Even a few paces away, it was impossible not to be aware of that.

"It isn't an error I need corrected. Come if you enjoy it. Otherwise..." he shrugged, stepping away from the wall. "You can wait in the green room if you get bored. I think there's food in there." With a casual gesture, he indicated the door that the woman with the headset had gone through. "I'd let you in the dressing room, but I don't think the other dancers would appreciate it."

And with that, he left Arionna to fend for herself, disappearing into the dressing room to shower and change.

Arionna de la Babin

"And who would know? You've said yourself that none of the others come here, and I'm not likely to engage in conversation with any other dancers." Arionna took her place at the wall momentarily to pick up her bag. "If you think I do things for other people without a benefit to myself, then you're mistaking me with someone else. I'm sure Kalen and Grace will be happy to inform you that I'm hardly selfless."

"I'll wait for you there." She casually left him to his own devices and made her way in the green room to wait quietly.

Ian

Ian was right about the green room. There was, in fact, food in there. The sofa, a plush orange monstrosity covered in old throw pillows, looked as though it had seen better days, but it was still more than usable. In the center of the room was a table displaying a selection of home-baked treats, a vegetable platter, a couple bottles of wine and a jug of ice water. The woman with the head-set was in the midst of pouring herself a cup of water when Arionna came in. She glanced over and smiled pleasantly, but didn't attempt to engage Arionna in conversation. A moment later a raspy voice sounded on her earpiece and she left the room to answer it.

About five minutes later, two of the other dancers entered the room - a beautiful Indian woman with a phone to her ear and a younger blond man who said hi to Arionna before making a beeline for the cupcakes. "You waiting for Ian?"

He said this like he'd already assumed she couldn't be there for anyone else. Regardless of her answer, they were interrupted a moment later when the dancer's (apparently large) family showed up and practically tackled him.

Arionna had been waiting about ten minutes by the time Ian reappeared, now free of makeup and with his hair damp from the shower. He had on a black t-shirt and a pair of dark skinny jeans, with boots and a leather jacket and a duffle bag slung over one shoulder. "I'm ready to go if you are."

The female dancer glanced at them from across the room and tossed Ian an amused look, one eyebrow arched knowingly. Ian met her gaze and gave a slightly sarcastic little wave of his fingers before turning to refocus his gaze on Arionna. Assuming she was, in fact, ready to go, he'd lead her down the hall to a back exit that led out into the main theater complex.

Arionna de la Babin

Arionna was not a food monger, and while she was hungry, they were about to wander out to acquire food. Seemed absurd for her to eat now, despite how delicious some of it might seem. So she sat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other under her dark skirt. "I am." Is the simple response given to the question at hand, though she could have easily thrown out something sarcastic; she didn't.

It was the large family, and the affections thereof, that made her uncomfortable. There were plenty of people who engaged in family affairs in the outside world, but she was quite capable of ignoring them. Ari always had something to do. Here it was almost as if she were forced to view it. Families...

As if to alleviate the discomfort, Ari reached in her bag for her book (she always had one), and flipped it open to read quietly. It was always her escape when she wasn't allowed to run free in the trees. Books let one forget.

When Ian spoke, she lifted her chin enough to see him and slowly rose, sliding the book in her bag. "I hardly see a reason to stay, unless you've a magical wardrobe you haven't shown me."

As they walked from that room, from the uncomfortable people and that horrible orange couch, she gave him a slight glance. "I will be interested if some gossip were to circulate. I find the obsessions people have to be interesting."

Ian

"People tend to be curious about each other. If you don't fill in the blanks, they make assumptions. I don't really care either way. People will see me how they see me."

Outside, the air was cool but not cold. It smelled like spring. Muddy and a little humid. They were heading toward the parking lot when Ian asked, "Do you care if we take my car?" He gestured over his shoulder at a black Audi parked beneath one of the street lights. The car looked a bit beyond the price range range of a dancer. Sleek and new and freshly washed.

Arionna de la Babin

"Experience has shown that even in the presence of information, people make assumptions that best fit their perceptions and desires. Sometimes it's most fun to play with it." Ari took in a breath, knowing that while it felt good, it would be temporary. This season wasn't hers, it was her mother's.

"No. I don't. " She paused near the Audi, giving Ian a slight glance. "Really? Seems a bit excessive." But if she minded, it wasn't really written on her face. She was perfectly fine getting in without much complaint. "Does make one wonder why you dance."

Ian

Ian didn't offer any comment at Arionna's admission. His response to that was veiled. Thoughtful. When they reached the car, he pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the doors. The car came to life with a little flash of its headlights and an electronic chirp.

Really? Seems a bit excessive.

Ian smirked at that. "Yeah. I know. It's a remnant from another life. I got kind of attached to it though." Briefly he ran his fingers up along the slope of the hood, as though recalling some memory. Then he opened the driver's side and got in, leaning across to open the passenger door for Arionna. Once she was settled, he started the engine and pulled out of the lot.

The Sushi Den was only about a five minute drive from the arts center. When they arrived, Ian locked the car and led the way inside. The restaurant was open late, and had the option of either booths or bar seating. Normally Ian sat at the bar, but tonight he grabbed a booth, sliding in on one side with a nod to the server as glasses of water were poured out for them. The place was nice, but not overly fancy. The menu offered a number of options, and the fish behind the counter looked fresh.

"I'm glad you liked the show, by the way." (A delayed response to her earlier review.)

Arionna de la Babin

So many of the magi here allow their emotions to be exposed. Ian's affection for the car, and for whatever it meant, was obvious. And was that a moment of nostalgia and potentially regret? Kalen had been the hardest for her to read.One has to wonder if better friendships are formed when the other knows your emotional state; a thought for later.

She slides into the car, riding along with him the quite short distance to the restaurant, sparking a wonder as to why they drove at all. Perhaps he had a deep affection for the car, or wanted to flaunt it; men were notorious for attempting to flash their goods when a lady was present, whether or not it was necessary.

Her bag was set against the wall in the booth, her hands placed lightly on the table top as the water was poured. "Are you?" There was a small lift of her brow at the comment, mostly because people said such things out of obligation...a sort of 'thank you.'

"Often, the 'darker' and more 'primal' of who we are are forgotten or brushed to the side; labeled as evil or wrong. Whenever they are presented, they are presented with the sole purpose of demonizing them. Puritanical views really. Ever pervasive. I didn't feel as if that were the case then. That was part of what was enjoyable about it."

Ian

"Mm, interesting that's what you got out of it." Though it was difficult to read on Ian's face whether he agreed with her or not. His degree of openness was often a slippery thing. "People have to understand who they are. Otherwise the darker parts control us. It's useless to think of instincts as good or bad. Fear is an instinct. It keeps us alive, but it also holds us back. Hunger is like that. People want to pretend that we aren't still creatures of instinct, but what the fuck is capitalism if not hunger gone mad?"

Though clearly Ian wasn't about to go live on a commune. It was difficult not to notice just how image-conscious he was. When the waiter returned to take their order, he asked for green tea and a sashimi plate.

Arionna de la Babin

"Part...of what I saw in it. " She waited, quietly, until the server came. She too opted for hot green tea, and a few sushi rolls with a small bit of miso soup. That would be enough, certainly.

"It isn't about control, or the loss of it. Knowing oneself simply lets the individual understand their orientation. Denying ones inner desires for the sake of societal mores or moral perspectives is no different than abandoning the self into darkness. Some are merely prone to one side or the other, some in between. But yes, instincts are our base nature, and all other things follow. People don't want to see it, of course, as it makes humans seem ugly. They are. Ugly. Very ugly. That truth is uncomfortable."

"But hunger has a purpose. It drives survival. We hunger what we need, for whatever purpose we need it. Those who have a love affair with capitalism and objectivism need to feel powerful and in control. They need to be rulers. Makes one wonder what in their past has driven them so. What god gave them favor?"

Ian

"Humans are complicated," Ian corrected quietly. "We have the capacity for a great many things. Higher thought is hardly the enemy of instinct. Otherwise, what was the point of evolving it? There isn't a line. All of it is who we are."

He took a drink of water and regarded Arionna over the rim of the glass. "Why do you think Grace doesn't like you?"

Arionna de la Babin

"They're not as complicated as they think. Humans have an interesting capacity to elevate themselves above other organisms. They think that reading and writing, discovering mathematics and science somehow makes them better. The truth is, when you break down their behavior to the very basic aspects? It's all instinct. Just like everything else. What makes them ugly is their ability to rationalize their actions to suit their purposes. A raven never denies what it is to be a raven. They are born, the grow, they fight against all odds to make it to adulthood, they have babies, raise them, and do everything in their power to survive. There's no need to rationalize it. They are what they are. They make no excuses."

Arionna put her elbow to the table and set her chin on her hand. "Humans are just dressed up chimpanzees. "

"The same reason the others don't. I don't conform to your hippy community. Grace has a hero complex. She has to save Denver, by her own admission. And when she says Denver, she means all the humans in it. Anything that threatens them is an enemy. But let us make a hypothetical. Let us say that a cougar kills three people. What is the immediate reaction? The cougar must be bad. Put down the cougar for the safety of the people. But let us say that in truth, when we dig further, we discover it was the humans who had caused it. They threatened an animal, perhaps even her cubs, and the cougar merely defended itself, or tried. Who are we to protect? Humans because they are humans? Or the cougar because it was in the right? The trouble with people like Grace, is that they will default to the humans, never understanding that many humans make their own beds. "

Ian

Whatever Ian's reaction to all of that, he let Arionna speak. There was little indication of emotion on his face. His eyes hovered on Arionna, watching her expression; her body language. His own body went still.

At first, his only response was a small, subvocal sound. Then he sat back and took another drink, running the tip of his tongue between his lips. "People who think they have all the answers usually end up dead." After a beat he added, "If you feel that way, then why are you here with me?"

Arionna de la Babin

"As opposed to those who don't? As I recall, everyone dies. It's the natural course of life." She tilted her head to the side just a little, keeping her face as straight as ever. The mirth she had drummed up before had faded and now she was speaking and watching Ian, waiting for the same signs as the others.

Her chin lifted from her hand and she straightened slowly. "I'm accustom to prejudice and mistreatment. As it has always been present, it always will be. I expect nothing less. I'm most intrigued when someone doesn't exhibit the same tendencies. Even among our kind I'm seen as wrong for not accepting the perspectives that other share. Not unusual. My ancestors, women largely,  died by fire for their beliefs. Not quite so bad now as people have progressed, yet I always expect it. Hostility. Isolation. Veiled threats. Pretend manners to save face. Hypocrisy. "

"There are some who seem to be willing to...talk...I suppose. And while I dislike my own species, I am still a part of it. Like all humans, I seek companionship in some form. I can't deny that, as much as I might like to." She set her chin on her hand again. lightly sliding her finger along the rim of her glass.  "Something about you, Alex, Elijah seems...comforting."

Ian

Something about that last comment seemed to slip through Ian's controlled demeanor to elicit some amusement. "I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment."

The waiter returned with their food and Ian thanked him with a polite smile. He sat forward, grabbing a pair of chopsticks in a neat, elegant motion. He used them like he'd been eating with them all his life (and maybe he had.)

"You seem to value your opinions more than your survival. Which, for the record, is a very human thing to do." He picked up a piece of salmon and took a bite, smiling softly around his food. "I'm not the same kind of person as Alex or Elijah. And I doubt most people would find me comforting. But... to each their own. I thought maybe you were trying to hit on me."

Arionna de la Babin

"Most people wouldn't, I think." Ari went for the tea when it came, sipping at it lightly. For the moment, she wasn't touching her own food; it could wait.

"I'm human. How else would I act? I've discovered that hiding yourself for the sake of others gets you nothing in return. People will still despise you, and they will only grudgingly let you in. Then you will be unhappy for denying who you are. It's a silly notion. I may not, by your words and the thoughts of others, live quite as long, but at least I accept who I am. Surprisingly few people can speak to that."

Finally she reached for her own sushi, grabbing it with two fingers and sliding it in her mouth. She gave a soft, subtle sound of approval. Americans could learn from such a wonderful cultural food.

"Maybe I am. Do you know that among mammals it is often the case that the male presents himself for choosing? The female assesses his qualities, ascertains if he will be a good long term partner, or if a short-term, provide adequate genes for her cubs. Men and their flashy cars are an example." She did give him a small lift of her lips into a grin at him. "Some males engage in physical behaviors to show their prowess. Others present dazzling colors. Varies among species, but the underlying pattern remains the same. The male presents, the female chooses."

"In that case, it would be most accurate to say that you were impressive, and I might be willing to initiate further interaction. The question...is whether or not it would work."

Ian

Ian's eyebrows went up, and his amusement broke with an abrupt note of laughter. The tone of it wasn't mocking so much as... surprised? Entertained? There was a bright flash of his teeth - white and perfect and just a little too sharp. Suddenly the picture of him eating raw fish seemed quite fitting. As though some part of him wasn't quite tame enough for modern food (though surely he ate cooked meat just as often.)

"Do you get a lot dates with that line?" As his laughter quieted, he leaned back again, tapping the tips of his chopsticks once, lightly, against the edge of his plate. "That summation seems to leave out anyone who isn't straight."

Arionna de la Babin

She wasn't entirely sure how to take the laughter. Was it teasing? Was something she said funny? Her brows furrowed slowly and Ari took a slow drink of her tea, giving Ian a moment to clarify. She could easily be offended and walk away but...

Ari's smile fell slowly. "No." She had one or two dates with Elijah, and that had summed up her entire dating experience. She was never very good with people, and worse when it came to handling the opposite sex; that was only after moving to the city too.

"Hardly." She corrected him. "They're still playing the game. For what reason we're not entirely sure, but it still occurs. Someone plays the game of seeker, and the other the prey. One chooses and one is chosen. It's just more...pronounced in heterosexual couples given the immense cost to women when it comes to producing and raising children. Females can't afford to be lax in their mating partners. There is some suggestion that gay men seek out other men with the same criteria as if they were seeking women. Fascinating work. Unfortunately it hasn't ventured into the realm of gay women, or the interesting bisexuals. Asexuality is also a great deal of interest. Not mine, really. Humans are fascinating but not that fascinating. It's also simply not my discipline."

"Of course, given all of this, women rarely mate below themselves. Their mate ought to have their quality or greater, else they are losing. So, I suppose..." She set her chin on her hand again. "That you could see it as a compliment that I see you as an equal or greater."

Ian

"Being attractive and having a nice car doesn't make me better than anyone. It just makes some parts of my life easier." His amusement sobered here, and his body language grew still. Coiled and controlled.  "When people decide to fuck, they choose each other. Regardless of the genders involved. But it's good to know you find me acceptable for breeding stock. Might want to check my medical records first to make sure I don't have an STD or some inherited predisposition to cancer. Maybe test my IQ while you're at it. Or..."

He leaned slowly across the table, stopping a few inches from Arionna's face. His breath was warm against her lips, his eyes dark and focused. "You could just talk to me like I'm a person. And flirt like it's a dance instead of a research paper."

Then he pulled away and sat down. "For the record, I'm pansexual. And you're actually a bit young for me."

Arionna de la Babin

Ian sobered, and Arionna had also grown still. She tensed, the fingers on her cup, the ones she had begun to circle along the rim, came to a stop. Her green eyes focused on him intently, and the more he talked, the flatter her expression became. It was all fun in games for awhile, and maybe she let that one moment of euphoria in the theatre influence her actions far too much. She had relaxed. Ari knew not to relax.

Ian leaned in close, maybe feeling that such a closeness would be ok, given their interactions thus far. But something about it didn't sit well with her; had she been any other animal, her hair would have risen. "Back. Off." It was harsh, cold, a warning. She didn't like people moving in close without her consent. She didn't like it at all.

She eased only a little when he finally sat back. "You wouldn't like how I 'dance.' " Her chin lifted and she leaned over to her bag to ruffle through it, pulled out a few bills and setting them on the table. "Was fun while it lasted. But at least I can say you have my gratitude. Small as it may be."

Arionna slipped out of her seat in the booth, the bag hanging from her shoulder. She didn't know how else to handle her feelings at that moment, but to move. When faced with a social situation where she feels so... inadequate... the best plan is to vacate as soon as possible. "And no, a nice car and good looks don't make you better than anyone. I would consider intelligence to be the defining factor, among other variables. None of which you qualify for. I will grow, but the horrible innate qualities of your personality will never change. How unfortunate for you. "

"Enjoy." And it was said with about as much wish for his pleasure as a spiteful snake. She tightened her lips and made her way out of the sushi den, knowing full well that her actions weren't going to make it easier. Those were instincts, and they had served her well so far...

Ian

Back. Off.

When she said it, he would. Despite whatever she seemed to think of his character, he didn't linger in space where he wasn't welcome. But the tone of the conversation changed, and Ian was left to finish his food alone. He didn't try to stop her, and neither did he disagree with any of her accusations. His expression was calm as he watched her. And if he had any thoughts, he kept them to himself.

"Have a good night, Arionna."

And then she was gone. And he breathed out quietly, checked his phone, and finished his sushi.

7:00 PM