1022/Prospect and Perspective

Prospect and Perspective
Date of Scene:	07 April 2020
Location:	Queens Museum
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Marcus Xin-Murdoch, Alanna Lyons

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Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
The call came that Friday, an unknown number with a 212 area code. It was itself something of a presumption. Who answers an unknown number in this day and age? But, then again, who has business cards with just their number on them? To call, rather than to text- to insist upon voice. To ask that she take it on faith that it's him calling. All this Marcus relies upon, and - fortune showing him its proverbial favor - his gamble pays off.

"Alanna. It's Marcus." Though his voice sounds different coming from a device rather than in a claimed corner of the Symphony Hall, it's unmistakably him. Clear, carefully chosen words, each syllable weighed and measured. "I was hoping you'd join me this weekend at the Queens Museum. Say Sunday, 3 o'clock?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
The number was strange, but not strange enough that she didn't pick up. There were plenty of times she'd gotten calls like that, unknown numbers with mysterious reasons for calling. This one, however, was a little more welcome than the usual.

The voice is recognized. "It's good to hear from you." It's offered simply, calmly, and she moves on from it quickly. "Sunday at three? I'll be there." A simple answer for a simple question.

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Excellent," is not effusive; it is marked by his habitual reserve. But Marcus feels it, and she can quite possibly feel it in turn, just as she might have upon their meeting. An uncommon enthusiasm. "I'll see you then. Goodbye, Alanna." And that's it. No small talk, no words spared beyond the necessary to arrange the time and place. It could be considered curt, were it not for the underlying energy.

When the time comes, he's there, standing in the expanse of white and light and glass of the Queens Museum lobby. Marcus is not so formally dressed as last time. He's in well-fitted dark jeans, a button down in an unostentatious white and blue plaid, and an off-white jacket that takes him a toe over the line into the formal. At first glance he appears at ease, but it's a poise; he's watchful, his confidence mixed with an expectation that you might as well call nerves.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
It's a simple arrangement, though it does warrant a smile from Alanna as soon as she hangs up. With the appointed hour, she shows up in a much more casual outfit. No dress this time. Instead, she's got a comfortable pair of jeans and a red blouse with ruffles on the front. Her hair isn't tied back but loose. She looks about for Marcus before spotting him and heading in his direction.

"I didn't keep you long, did I?" She looks at her phone for the time. Barely a minute past.

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Upon seeing her seeing him, Marcus goes into motion, moving to meet her half-way in a beam of afternoon sunlight that peers through the windows. He's the same man as she met at the Symphony, but this is a somewhat different aspect of his, still carefully composed but more at ease, the line of his shoulders a bit more sloped, his smile less brilliant- instead it's easier.

"You're perfectly punctual," Marcus says, giving her a single look of appreciation before settling his eyes firmly on hers. "So glad you could make it. Long descent from your tower, I'm guessing."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
It's interesting to see someone in an entirely different setting from the one that you met them in. Alanna regards him with curiosity. There's a smile, though, a comfortable one. "Well, I like to be appropriately on time." She does sound amused. "I did have a long climb, yes."

Her gaze goes in the direction of the museum. "You certainly have good taste."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus turns as her gaze shifts to the museum's light-suffused interior. He chuckles. "It's more modest than the Met or the MoMA, but I thought you might want to keep up your common-folk act." He glances sidelong at her, and then offers her his arm. If //what this is// were less than abundantly clear, it is now. "There's at least once thing here you have to see. It's what I most wanted to show you."

The comment on his taste is met with an ever-so-slightly askance smile.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna seems a bit amused at the suggestion, moving to take his arm. "And what makes you so sure I'm a princess still? You seem so determined to see me as the picture of someone far out of reach of the city." She flashes him a winning smile. "You so sure you've got me made pinned down already?"

She looks ahead of them. "Though I'm very curious what you're interested in showing me."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"You've not contradicted me yet," Marcus says, eminently reasonable, "which either means I'm near the mark and you don't want to dissemble, or you enjoy the characterization. Either way, I've every reason to stick to my assumption."

Her arm in his, he begins to lead her up a set of glass stairs, skipping over first floor entirely. One assumes he's already acquired the tickets, unless he's some sort of public art showcase bandit, which would be a surprising wrinkle to his characters. Then again, they are very nearly strangers to one another. "After all that cosmic bombast at the symphony," he says, by way of preamble, "I felt we were a little dwarfed. I thought we could use a change in perspective."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
She has to admit he's run into interesting territory with the joking about her nobility. Alanna accompanies him upstairs, though she does find herself curious as to his art banditing ways. She doesn't question it however, letting his mysterious ways remain a secret. "Now you've got me intrigued. What kind of perspective do you mean?"

She keeps pace with him, her eyes scanning their surroundings as they go. "I am certainly curious."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
The answer lies beyond a door, in a darkened space which reveals itself as surprisingly expansive, its scale initially hidden by dimness. The quality of the sound is the first giveaway, a cathedral quality, that and the rows of lights that reach out into the space.

Marcus leads Alanna up to the railing of raised platform they stand upon, and what rises into view below them is nothing less than an enormous scale model of New York City. Thousands of little buildings, arranged along strange geometries of the interlocking city streets with painted blue waterways and tiny, delicate bridges linking the boroughs together.

"There," Marcus says, glancing from the panorama to the woman beside him, "a prospect fit for a princess."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna doesn't release his arm, her other hand coming to rest on the railing as her attention shifts from him down to the city below them. "Well, this certainly makes us the ones with all the city in front of and below us." She looks towards him.

"So what do you see when you look at it?"

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
The question prompts him to return his gaze to the panorama, reaching to find his own reaction instead of looking for hers. His brow furrows ever so slightly, the shadow of some particular, weighty thought which he lets pass. When he speaks, it's likely not this first impression he reveals. More relaxed, yes, but still composed. Still careful.

"I see... a hermit crab's shell," Marcus says, gaze flickering back to Alanna, "a marvelous structure no one of us can say we've made, but which we inhabit all the same, carrying its history on our backs. ...and what do you see?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Her weight presses lightly against the railing as she puts some of her weight on it, leaning forward to really take a look at the city. "It's different, seeing it all like this, a sense of scope. Almost makes me feel small, oddly enough." Alanna's commentary isn't her answer, though, but she follows up with it.

"New York," she begins, "is a flower bud. Alive, full of potential for beauty. Sometimes flowers seem to just grow and thrive on their own, but it's never true. It's all a complex method of the right amount of light, the right amount of water, the moisture in the air, the bugs that could prey on it... every little piece comes together to make it what it is. I don't know that it'll ever fully blossom, but the pieces are there, doing their part."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Small?" Marcus echoes, "I think that bespeaks wisdom. You're seeing what the model stands for, not merely what it is. You can imagine yourself within it, not just above it, outside it." He's looking at her again, watching her watching. That was, after all, why he wanted to take her to this place. "You'll make a responsible queen," he quips.

His little dash of humor is soon lost in the profundity of her analogy, sending him back into contemplation, though his gaze remains on the woman rather than the panorama. "What would that look like- a blossoming city? From up here, and down there in the real streets?" The question has weight, not tossed out there for flirtation's sake.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"I don't know about that. Too many people vying for the throne. I'll likely never make it there," Alanna quips in return, though there's an odd look in her eyes as she says it. But they've turned serious, and so she turns back to the model of the city, even as he looks at her.

"Maybe from up here, a city that works well, good 'numbers' from the outside. Happy people, nothing appearing to be as complicated as it is. On the street it's also everything working as it should, but it's not clean. It's not perfect. It's messy, ineffecient, but it /works/. It gets the job done and it blossoms. People just usually don't stare too hard at the gears in the machine. They just look at the clock and they see it still tells time."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"And heavy is the crown," Marcus says, remaining in the register of the joke, but noting that he seems to have struck upon something. "I wouldn't want your brow burdened." He doesn't press the issue, but tucks away the observation: she's someone who takes the idea of responsibility seriously, and on a scale he hadn't expected.

"Isn't the bloom the clock, the stem and leaves the gears?" Marcus wonders aloud. "Another metaphor running away with us, but I do wonder... isn't it already doing that? Working, more or less? Is it just a matter of making it work better, work for more people? Greasing those gears?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Heavy is the crown indeed," Alanna murmurs, then straightens up fully as she looks over the city. "Some things are out of our hands." She says, simply, releasing a slow breath that she likely didn't even know she was holding. She moves her gaze from the city back over to him.

"Sure, I'd say it's working, to a certain extent. We could do it better. It's not easy to just say that, though. Fixing things isn't always as simple as saying 'this needs fixed' and going with it. Sometimes messing with something can make it worse. A messy solution may sometimes be the only solution."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"And sometimes people are attached to a way of doing things, even if it seems there might be a better one," Marcus says, and now it is his turn to reveal a tug of inner gravity, caught by something weighty within himself. "And one has to wonder if it's better to permit them that comfort than to ask them to change. If one has the right to ask it of them."

"Alanna," he says, as smoothly as he may, and yet there is a certain abruptness- a conversational step he's making that's more than another motion in the dance. "I'd like to stroll through the rest of this museum with you. After that, however, I was hoping you'd join me for dinner. To be frank, I'd like to get to know you better. And to tell you a bit more about myself."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna seems lost, for a brief moment, in his words. "Perhaps it's better not to upset the status quo in order to gain some perceived victory if the sacrifices made in the process are too high. It's a matter of placing your chips down instead of flipping the table." Now the metaphors and thought experiments are drifting much farther away, perhaps into more concrete but vague realities.

His mention of her name pulls her fully back into the moment, keen eyes observing him as he speaks. A slight smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. "Yes, that would be nice, Marcus. Of course. Dinner would be lovely, as well as the conversation accompanying it."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"The trouble is when you don't know the consequences," Marcus avers. "And when it comes to people - complicated systems each on their own - forming their own complicated systems with one another... outcomes are rarely certain, and never simple." Together they've drifted into heady territory- an unexpected consequence of their perch above the model city. Yet they drift together, and though his brow is creased, his gaze upon her is steady, weighty with significance.

His expression clears as Alanna accepts his offer, tethering their ships together for a bit longer yet. Marcus shifts his weight closer to her, his voice pitching ever so slightly lower, in proportion to the increase in proximity. "I'm very happy to hear it," he says. "You've made this commoner's evening."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna's gaze drifts back in his direction with a small smile. "People certainly are complicated systems, aren't they? One must simply be careful of the consequences and take the risks that are worth it." It certainly is a very weighty one, though she hasn't really stopped smiling. A serious subject, but not one that pulls her from her current moment.

The smile turns into more of a grin upon his mention once more of their 'status'. "I pictured you as more of a noble. You're far too intellectual for someone of a lower status. Although, perhaps a very bored noble if you're interested in going home and reading a book instead of enjoying the culture of an orchestra." She gives him a slight nudge to his side, a playful gesture. "My bet is definitely on bored noble."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus gives a soft chuckle. "You've detected my pretense," he says, "I do have something of a lineage, it's true. Or at least a course of honors. But I try not to get too disconnected- lost in an ivory tower." He glances down at New York once more, the model city rendered at such a remove that one is forced to imagine its teeming masses. "Some distance can be good. Some... perspective. But everything in moderation."

He doesn't grin easily, but her own brings him to the very edge of his own, visible more in his eyes than on his lips. "You still outrank me, mind you, that much I can tell. I have to work hard to assert my status. You walk in grace." The nudge prompts him to move a little closer, arm bumping up against hers, a subtle but purposeful closing of distance, something she could - with the slightest motion - lean into, away from, or keep just as it is.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"If there is any grace involved, it is merely years of practice. Anyone is capable of being an expert in their profession should they spend years training to be in it. I feel that goes for most anything. The time and effort do yield results," Alanna says, eyes on the model cityscape for a moment. "Distance can give us perspective, but at the end of the day, we all end up right where we started."

His physical presense being closer is noted, and she shifts her weight on her feet, as if just making herself more on her feet as she moves in the slightest bit. Almost as if it were unintentional, though it's clearly the opposite.

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Don't you think some motion is possible? Or do you always return to your tower when the clock strikes a certain hour?" Marcus has his back to the model now, his eyes on Alanna, shoulder turned in her direction as he leans lightly on the rail. His arm lifts and alights, gently, upon her back, just the fingertips touching. "We are made into what we are, but we can remake ourselves; or else why believe we could remake others?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"I'm no Cinderella, though I've certainly got some relatives I consider ugly. Not in the literal sense, of course." Alanna shifts again, angling a bit more towards him to continue the conversation. "But imagine, for a moment, if Cinderella hadn't run home. The spell wears off, the prince sees she is a pretender and, even if he cared, the mystery would be over and the people of the kingdom would have shunned her. She chose not to take that risk."

There's a very long pause. "Perhaps I /am/ Cinderella." She actually seems, for a moment, to be genuinely startled and thinking deeply on the concept before speaking again. "Perhaps we can remake ourselves as we like, but perhaps in some cases it is better for /others/ if we do not."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus watches with interest as he once again strikes a chord without intending to. The princess metaphor, his first foray at flirtation with the green-eyed mystery he met just days ago, continues to resonate. His touch remains light, as if there were something of gossamer and glass to this dynamic, demanding delicacy.

"You don't imagine the prince might still have fallen in love with her?" he asks, following her into this alternate telling, a fairy tale through a looking glass. "In the story he seeks the mysterious woman out, the one he danced with 'til midnight. And when he discovers her, he's not shocked to find out about her humble origins. It's Cinderella's own self-doubt that makes her run, not the prince's judgement."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"It's not the prince I was worried about, Marcus," Alanna says slowly. "It's the people." There's a moment where she laughs and shakes her head. "And fairy tales are not always perfect metaphors, as nice as it would be to find commonalities between life and fiction." There's a soft pause. "Unless it's between fiction and a thought experiment and not at all pertaining to anyone's life."

Her gaze finally tears itself from him, just enough for her to glance over at the city again. "You're trying to figure me out without asking. It's a good method."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Your concern for the people is admirable," Marcus remarks. "Usually a romance thrives upon a disregard for everyone else- it attains heights by overcoming rivals and declares independence by ignoring disapproval. But you aren't convinced by the assurance of 'happily ever after'. You want to know what happens the next day, and the next."

Of course, his own preoccupation is revealed just as readily by the story they're telling. She, concerned with people; him, thinking of the prince. Two different perspectives. "Truth and fiction are compliments, not opposites," he says, and by now his eyes are on her alone. "And I'm curious- but I don't wish to pry."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"It's a nice metaphor. Thinking about things in terms of a fairy tale, fitting things into a box. It's nice to try. To find a way to relate to the people and the emotions of something familiar to something that isn't." Alanna looks back at him now, turning to face him more fully. Her attention's on him now.

"I don't..." She starts, unsure of how to continue for a moment. "I don't normally do this. I thought this would be nice. It /is/ nice. I enjoy it. But you said you wanted to get to know me. I wasn't joking when I said it was a rabbit hole." She suddenly grins. "Before it crosses your mind, I don't have a secret life where I run around with a cape and save lives."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"That doesn't preclude your donning a mask and plotting world domination," Marcus remarks, and finally he too is grinning - it's still a fairly subtle shade of grin, but a little goes a long way, showing a flash of straight white teeth. "Even so- if you are trying to get me to walk away, Alanna, you will need to use more than cryptic warnings. I think you can tell by now how I respond to mysteries."

A beat, a moment's thought, and then: "Especially graceful, green-eyed mysteries."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna laughs, looking at him seriously. "I can promise you there are no plans to dominate the world, nor any that involve donning masks. My life is exciting, it is not /that/ exciting. Usually." Exceptions always happen. She offers him a smile. "Perhaps I don't want you to walk away. And therein lies the problem."

She seems conflicted in her way of addressing the topic, but she doesn't turn away from him. "What if I told you that it would put you in danger if you were to get close? Does that make you walk?"

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
He doesn't back away. He doesn't withdraw his hand. His smile sobers, however, his lips pursing into a mien of deliberateness, of thoughtfulness. This might be another bit of the game they are playing... yet it doesn't seem to be so. It doesn't feel playful. "What sort of danger?" he asks, slowly and clearly. "You say your life is not that exciting, yet you leave me wondering just what you mean. Just what you're trying to protect me from."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"My life isn't exciting on a personal level. But I live in a world where things are dangerous, crossing the wrong people could get you killed. It's not a fun kind of danger," Alanna scans him for a moment. "I could elaborate, but... I'm not sure how much you want to know." She rests her hands atop the railing. "I don't blame you for walking."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
It is so difficult... not to believe /her/ but to believe in that kind of world. Abstractly he understands that such worlds exist. But to square that kind of peril with this woman, with her charm and her wit, to have that world make sense alongside the world they share right now - a museum in the afternoon on a Sunday - produces too profound a dissonance. Yet he tries. Tries to hold that contradiction in his mind. At last, he shakes his head. "I'm going to trust you," he says, "that you will tell me what I need to know to be as safe as I may. But I'm not walking away."

He resummons his smile. "I'm not about to back out of dinner with you, Alanna."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"That is... a significant amount of trust," Alanna says after a moment, certainly looking surprised. "I must be an extremely interesting graceful green-eyed mystery to you. I believe you should be fine if you're putting trust in me. I just need you to understand if I tell you that you 'need' to do something, it's for someone's safety... mine or yours. Both, perhaps."

There's a sudden laugh. "I don't know if you know anything of what you're trying to get into, but you should know that I laud your courage."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"I don't need dire portents to take you serious when you say there is something you need," Marcus says, "I'd respect that no matter what." This is a matter of principle to him, not just words. As it should be for everyone, yes, but the firmness of his tone, the set of his eyes suggest it is tied to his self-concept. Not just a belief, but a basis.

"I don't know, it's true. But I will also trust that you'll tell me, when you think it's necessary. Otherwise, when we're together, I'd like to think you're free to forget it. To be whomever you wish to be."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"You really /are/ making this extremely difficult to get you to walk away," Alanna says, looking him over as if somehow she could see his character with a simple visual assessment. "This is certainly a first." She seems to be taking in his words, a tiny smile creeping across her features.

"I like the idea of forgetting. At least for a little while." She pauses. "I just felt you should know that there are complications for being around me and given that you haven't politely excused yourself, I suppose you really do want dinner."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Perhaps she has the advantage of a certain insight. From the first she found it easy to step into Marcus' corner, past his defenses. Even now she can see how that flatters him. the idea of being 'a first'. "The benefit of such a challenge is that it provides the opportunity for courage," he says, "which is why warnings don't always work as well as they're meant to. If, that is, you really mean to warn me off."

The touch upon her back becomes a little more pronounced, a subtle change that speaks volumes all the same. "I really do," he says, "and you can decide, when we do, how much more you want to tell me. And how much you'd rather be free to forget."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"I'd rather not warn you off, if given my druthers. Sometimes, though, we do things we do not like for the sake of the safety of others and perhaps what some consider the infamous 'right thing to do'. I, unfortunately, do not often pick the selfish choice even if I would like to. I value life." Alanna smiles at him again, this one almost fond.

"But I'm not the one making a choice here. I can present you certain facts and see how you take them." She pauses. "And, we must remember in all of this, that I have yet to learn of you. Or perhaps you were hoping to hide behind my danger."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"You just need to decide the balance of value- between your own and that of others," Marcus says, building off what he believes she is saying. "Best of all when you can achieve both- when having what you want doesn't come at the cost of anyone else."

The fondness is mirrored, his guard remaining lowered, enough that she's able to confront him directly about his own reticence. "I think it is less a desire to hide than a habit of privacy. I... usually keep to myself. This is unusual for me as well. A first. But, at this point? I think it might also be that I'm afraid who I am might not be as exciting as who you are."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna actually laughs at his words, the fond smile turning brighter. "You are intelligent and witty and you need not worry that you aren't what you think you ought to be. What we think we should be isn't often what we are and it isn't always the right direction to move in. Worlds collide. The greater good isn't always great. If you can appreciate something in me aside from my circumstances, I will happily take that. I already appreciate you without knowing yours."

One hand comes to rest atop his on the railing. "My situation aside, offering me the trust to get to know you aside from your tendency for privacy is something I want you to know I appreciate. You've done something courageous just to be here."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
With both his hands now making gentle contact, a circuit is formed, an energy passing through him and between them. Marcus turns his hand to clasp her fingers with his, affirming with the same lack of hesitation that has marked his actions so far. "It might seem less courageous if you knew how charming I've found you. How selfish my courage seems to me."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Is it always wrong to be selfish? Must we always wait for someone else to be the one to care for us?" Alanna raises an eyebrow at him, accompanied by that smile she can't seem to get rid of. "How is it any less courageous to overcome something simply because your motivations have positive outcomes for you? We're not all perfect bastions of compassion and hope all of the time and we're equally deserving of good things."

His fingers are given a small squeeze. "I just have to be careful where I pick my battles. It's one thing to be selfish, it's another to endanger someone by being so. It's a careful dance."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"No," Marcus replies, "it's often exactly what we should do. We neglect ourselves at our peril. But... it can often help to have someone else, someone who can //remind// us that we can be selfish once in a while."
    The feeling of the squeeze leads him to take a beat, the flow of words pausing in favor of the flow of energy. Acknowledging what is happening without having to name it. But their conversation is itself so energetic, he finds words returning quickly. "If you were to be entirely selfish, Alanna, what would you wish to do?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"You're asking a very dangerous question, Marcus. You're asking me to think about something I very well know won't be possible for a number of reasons. But if you are honestly asking what I would do if I was being entirely selfish... I'd probably find another job," Alanna seems thoughtful. "Something in charity work, I think. Something where I feel like what I'm doing is directly helping people."

It's an interesting thought, her selfish act ending up oriented towards helping people. "But sometimes we can't /be/ selfish. Not like that." He gets a smile again. "I do selfishly want dinner, though. At least that's achievable."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
The irony is so striking, Marcus doesn't even mention it, but his admiration is reflected in his smile. The openness in his expression is changing somewhat, becoming not just a receptivity, but a motion all its own. He gives her fingers a squeeze in return and, after another one of those moments of deliberation, he asks: "Shall we finish our tour the rest of the museum? Take our time... but also hasten what comes next?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"A continued tour of the museum would be nice, as much as staring out over the entirety of New York is," Alanna agrees after a moment. "So the rest of the tour and then on to dinner?" She tilts her head in his direction. "And maybe, if you ask nicely, I'll tell you about myself over dinner. But only if you ask nicely."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"I'll be sure to eschew my usual rough manners," Marcus says, producing irony with his own words, accentuating his education "and aspire to the nobility you see in me." He lifts himself from his lean, hand lingering in hers as he does, inviting her to stay linked or to let him go as she likes. "Maybe we can trade truths about ourselves, if we find allegories and stories have run their course."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
As she turns a bit to prepare to continue, Alanna seems uninterested in dropping his hand. That or, perhaps, it doesn't occur to her or she hasn't noticed. "Rough manners," she states with an amused tone. "Yes, I'm certain it will be very difficult for you to be rid of those." She shoots a sideways glance towards him. "I'll always share truth if you ask. I try to be straightforward about things. Truth can be very important but... you may not always like it or even truly want to know."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Whatever the reason, their hands remain linked; that fact remains, even if the truth of it is elusive. And so, hand in hand, the pair move back out into the suffusion of white light outside the great display room. Marcus tacitly leads the way; it seems he's familiar with the layout of this place. "There's a charm to letting the truth stay hazy or hidden," he says, "especially if its revelation carries risk. But ignoring it is also risky. Eventually midnight comes, that dispelling hour, and the truth will out. Don't you think?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"You're right," Alanna admits after a moment. "It's not something that stays in the dark forever. In some ways, it's wishful thinking. What is it they say about madness? It's doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome?" She seems content to let him lead, particularly due to the familiarity he has with the place. It's a detail she's certain not to forget. "It seems disingenuous not to be truthful about some things up front... and yet at the same time, sometimes the things up front aren't the most important things about a person."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"It also presumes," Marcus says, "that we know our own truths well enough to tell them. In my experience that's often not the case. What we are and what we think we are have a complicated relationship." They descend another set of stairs, their pace easy and unrushed. He leads them into another space that, while well-lit, is painted black, with black rugs, all the better to contrast with the brightness of the art on display. There are more models here - white architectural mockups - as well as blueprints and ground plans. Closer inspection will reveal that, while each is set in some recognizable part of New York, none of these buildings actually exist.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
It's another appropriately interesting exhibit for the conversation. Something that doesn't exist but could have or someone imagined what it would be like. Alanna studies the exhibit, but she doesn't hide the fact that Marcus has drawn most of her attention now. "I've often found that it's even harder to determine what we are without outside perspective. When you're in the box, it's hard to imagine a perspective outside it." She's certainly well aware of the box she lives in. She's tried and failed to leave it several times.

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus, on the other hand, is always avoiding the vessel that was prepared for him, circumventing it, evading it, denying its presence but never able to forget. And here, with here, he's not forgetting, yet neither is he dwelling darkly. The promise of a new perspective, a new prospect, lends him a measure of relief. "That's why we need others, isn't it? True others. From worlds besides our own."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Outside perspective is good, so long as it considers all the possibilites there. Sometimes the box itself has... well, all the markings of one thing, regardless of what it contains. We're all marred by society's opinions in some way at one point or another," Alanna notes, her fingers squeezing his in a soft way as she turns slightly to look at a piece of the exhibit. "I'm used to people thinking the wrong thing. Eventually you stop beliving in people because of it."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Prompted by her shift in focus, her turns as well, their connection maintained through touch instead of sight. And even now their sight, two perspectives on the same objects, serves as a kind of parallax, potentially instructive. The models are some sort of translucent resin, spun into futuristic, annular forms - some domes, some spheres, some spires. There is also a suspension bridge, connecting the non-existent city to some other place. "Then having an encounter free of all that framing must be refreshing," Marcus says, "I hope it is. Thought it makes me hesitant to ask for any details that might limit that freedom."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"It is nice," Alanna agrees. "You're exempt from any judgments on me save for what you see, hear, experience. You get a story not everyone is willing to listen to." It's an opportunity she's not often used to. "But as refreshing as it is, you can only dwell in a place like this for so long before it's just constricting." She obviously doesn't mean the /museumn/ there. "You may ask what you wish. I'll answer you truthfully."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Though she doesn't mean the place they're exploring together - indeed, it has been so far a space of possibilities, suggesting futures if not fully manifesting them - Marcus picks up that thread and weaves it into the conversation. "We can follow lines of flight to new places. Those paths are almost always open, it's just hard to take them alone." A beat, as he considers his offer. "All right. Tell me, what's something you've wanted to do but haven't been able?" He opts, this way, to speak more of potentialities than realities, though the two are interlinked.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Pick your poison. Work a normal job, walk down a street without looking behind me, make a decision without having to consider dozens of other people before myself, make a decision without other people forcing their own input in..." Alanna lets out a slow breath. "But I should be grateful for what I have, right? Someone always has it worse." She shakes her head. His attempts to drive towards potentials only reinforced the position she's in. Now, she's interested in the exhibit again, frown tugging at her lips.

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus' brow furrows as he sees his attempt to call out some hopeful wish turned into a meditation on the seemingly fundamental assurances and comforts she is denied. There's a tightness in his chest as he looks sidelong at her, not wanting to make her an object of either scrutiny or pity, yet unable - in the midst of his tale of tower-bound princesses - to avoid the wish to... well, to rescue her. As if, as is she unable to rescue herself, he could make any difference. A spell of silence passes as he tries to concentrate on the exhibit as well. At length he says: "But you aren't another someone. You're yourself."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna's gaze remains on the exhibit, mostly because it's hard to look in his direction for a moment. "I certainly am me," she agrees slowly. "I just have a hard time accepting that I never had a choice to pick my path. I spend a lot of time pretending things are simple and that my choices won't be harmful to others. I'll accept things eventually, I suppose I'm just getting my desire for freedom out of my system. An extensively long teenage rebellion phase, if you will." His fingers are squeezed, just a little, even if she won't look in his direction right now.

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
It's time for Marcus to have a chord struck of his own. Teenaged rebellion, youthful principles- everyone understands these things but not everyone lives so thoroughly in the shadow of those decisions. "The problem with adolescent outrage is that it's a reaction. 'Against' just to be 'against'. Wanting freedom isn't a phase. It's an urgent need. It just... comes at a cost. Being free is difficult, because it means having to make your own choices. And accepting the responsibility for them." Even or especially if they cause harm, he doesn't say, but it can be understood. He returns the squeeze, asserting that he is, right now, choosing to be present, with her.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
The responsibilities of freedom are ones she's thought about more than she'd like to count. Alanna studies him briefly, then nods. "You're right. There are certainly responsibilities to that. Ones I'm afraid of, ones I do not want to carry the weight of." There's a small smile. "I suppose I get to charge forward and see if and when responsibilities decide to punish me for daring to think I could have otherwise."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
They meet gazes again, free to look at one another without having to triangulate through the exhibit. And it's true that, for Marcus at least, the art is serving best as a prism, a way to understand the woman he's sharing his day with. "You're really concerned about punishment?" he says, "Alanna... the way you talk, it worries me. Enough that I can't decide whether or not to ask for more, or to leave the matter be. I'm... not used to being so indecisive."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"It's less me I worry about and more the collateral damage of my decisions." Alanna looks back at the exhibit, then back to him. It's hard for her to decide what (or who) she feels the need to look at. "When I was growing up, I didn't really realize that things were different. I was unaware that not everyone was raised the way I was, in the world that I was. Then one day I realized it wasn't just my little bubble, that the world was bigger. I know this makes little sense without context, but..."

She hesitates for just a moment. "I appreciate being able to talk about it, if only in metaphors and figurative language and vague statements. It's not often I get to do so."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Perhaps, eventually- not necessarily by tonight's dinner, but maybe by the next, or, fortune permitting, the one after that," Marcus says, and in so saying confesses his future intentions, of his expected and continuing interest, "we'll speak to each other plainly. Until then, I think you deserve the freedom to use as much metaphor as you want."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"That's very bold of you, Marcus," Alanna certainly turns to face him after that. The mention of multiple dinners has her attention. "I do like the metaphors, the thought that goes into them to properly relay the information you wish to give. But I also like you, which means I don't entirely like the idea of presenting a false front and not behing honest. At the same time, I also do like not dragging you into a situation that I can't guarantee you're safe in."

There's a small smile. "Bit of a pickle."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"I like you too," Marcus says, for even if his intentions are already quite clear, some things are worth saying outright. "And I'd ask that you not worry too much about protecting me. I don't know that I'm quite as vulnerable as you think. And even so- isn't it up to me whether or not I take the risk?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna gives him a careful look. "Alright, I'll be entirely truthful at dinner. I'll go into detail with what I can, as I cannot share /everything/, but I'll make sure it's a sufficient amount that I feel is necessary to make you fully aware of the situation you're walking into. Then, if you feel like walking there are no hard feelings, but I rather hope you'd be willing to risk it and go on those other dinners." She flashes him a winning smile. "I promise they'll be much less tense and serious than this one."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"I couldn't reasonably ask for more," Marcus says, giving her hand a squeeze this time, communicating his gratitude by as many ways as he can manage, his dark eyes smiling along with his lips, his focus on her steady. "Speaking of, I was wondering... what sort of cuisine tickles your fancy today? I admit I'm already looking forward to sitting down with you. Learning your tastes."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"I will avoid taking you to any of my usual haunts... for privacy's sake," Alanna grins, her focus now remaining on him. The exhibit is secondary now. "Would you think I uninteresting if I said Italian? It's my default if I can't decide simply because pasta is wonderful at any point." She pauses. "Also, I find that pasta makes amazing leftovers especially when you don't feel like cooking."

She winks. "See, learning more about me and we haven't even hit dinner."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
A faint glow suffuses Marcus' face at the grin and the wink that follows, a slight giddiness that finds ways to show itself through his habitual reserve. "Italian it is," he says, "and we can stick to Queens- unless after all this time this has been your haunting grounds, and I've been dead wrong about where your tower is located."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"I have haunts all over the city, but no, I don't believe I've got an Italian place in Queens that I go to regularly," Alanna seems amused. "Although I must say... I'm curious where you think my tower /is/ located. How high up does the rabbit hole climb?" Perhaps not a great metaphor, but an amusing one none-the-less.

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"There's a place I know with a waterfront view," Marcus says, drawing a little closer as he conjures the place - conjures, is that the word he's thinking? Evokes is no better. Too late, the thought is thought. "Might be nice after all these facsimiles to see the real thing." He arches his brow just a bit. "Do I have to guess now, or can I wait 'til I learn more?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"I do admire a waterfront view. Especially if it has a good view of a sunset," Alanna offers with a smile. "Kind of a romantic thing to watch a sunset over the water while having dinner. You get bonus points if there's a candle." It's a playful tease--she means no real harm by it. In fact, she looks like she's having fun with it the way she did when they were drinking champagne in plastic flutes. "I think you should guess now and /then/ get the real answer."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
A tease can be in earnest, just as a joke can convey the truth. It's often easier that way. As with metaphors, humor can shield even as it reveals. Marcus is grateful for it. His reserve, which serves him well most of the time, makes outright expression difficult. But to be offered a move in a game- it lets him make of confession a formality. "Exactly my thought," he says, and his weight shifts, as if responding to the gravity of their shared vision, the potentiality of dinner, of the sunset, of candlelight. "And, since you insist... I imagine you as a royal of Upper Manhattan, not too far from reality to be lost in the clouds, but still ensconced in crystal and steel."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Ah, I figured that would be your guess," Alanna explains, her eyes scanning his for a moment. "You paint me too far too high in the clouds. I think you'll find my tower has quite a clear view of the city." She nods at his assessment. "But that was a fair guess. The correct answer would have been South Midtown Manhattan. Flatiron district, to be more precise. Are you shocked?" There's a small smile now. "You know, I have to say... as worried as I am that you'll walk, dinner is sounding lovely."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"At least I got the borough right," Marcus says, as they move past a display of framed plans for canals that were never dug, and piers that were never built. "You have enough wit to be from Brooklyn, but I had a sense you came from a loftier prospect. The Flatiron district..." He brushes his thumb against hers. "I'm as you find me, born and raised in Queens. Even went to school here. My polish is a family bequest, something I've never quite been able to scuff away."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Well, I reside in Manhattan /now/," Alanna explains with a small smile. "Believe me, I was a little scruffier as a child. My polish is to make my family look good. Don't let my appearance deceive you too much." Her gaze briefly moves to their hands before looking back at him. "I like your scuffed polish. A little of both worlds makes for a charming appeal."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"So I'm polish, scuffed. And you are scruff, polished," Marcus remarks. "It was only a matter of time until we met." He doesn't follow her gaze, letting the contact between them serve to express his attention. His dark eyes remain steady, shifting between her and the path they take together.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna chuckles slightly at the words. "Does make us quite the pair, doesn't it? A little unusual, to say the least. I wonder who will be the better influence on the other." It's a small tease, an attempt at being playful. She's still feeling him out. "Perhaps we'll both come out the other end as better people."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"And what would that look like? Both of us scuffed and scruffy, closer to the people- or both of us polished, held high like crystal chandeliers?" Marcus replies, ready to engage in the back and forth. "This assumes either of us need improvement, after all. Maybe we're perfect as we are. Or maybe we're bored of perfection, and are looking for a way to fix what's unbroken."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Everyone's broken, I wholeheartedly believe that, some just more than others and some in ways that aren't always apparent. I also don't believe someone has to be fixed. Broken isn't always the worst thing to be." Alanna offers him a smile. "Maybe we just want to be broken in different ways and not the ones we've already seen for all our lives."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"That is a very compassionate attitude," Marcus says, a smile gracing his own lips, prompted by hers. "I would indeed be a better person if I felt that more fully and easily. I know I should agree. I do agree. Yet still- part of me wants to mend everything. To do better until there is no more better to be done."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"We live in a flawed world, Marcus. You can't go about expecting to be able to fix it. The more you try to do that the more you'll realize the most you can do is make things just a little for those who have to live in this flawed world. Organize the chaos a little, keep it from being worse." Alanna seems amused. "Deep discussion, I feel. Soon you'll determine my outlook in life deeply offends you and you'll leave in a huff."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus arches a brow, though the smile doesn't entirely dissipate. "Aren't you concerned that belief colors your expectations, limits your horizons? Predicting my offense, expecting me to walk away- isn't that part of the same way of thinking?" He pauses with her, a few steps outside the exhibit hall they've just exited. "I'm not going anywhere, Alanna. Not until the strike of the clock demands it."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna glances back at him, looking mildly amused. "Why do I feel like I'm trying to scare you off now somehow?" There's a laugh. "I promise, that's not my intention. I do admit I'm a bit pessimistic at times when it comes to anything too close to myself, but fairly hopeful when it comes to the lives of others. Though, I wonder if you'll leave a glass slipper when you leave."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"You'll have to resolve that tension, insofar as my life draws close to yours," Marcus says. "I'd like for your optimism to win out, though I recognize that it may be early to say." He sets them in motion again, his course directing them towards the glass doors that lead to the dimming day outside. "So far, however, you should know that the time I've spent with you has been an unambiguous improvement."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Well, it's good to know that I've at least had a positive benefit on someone's life," Alanna notes as they head outside. "I do try to be optimistic with a healthy side of realistic. I wouldn't want to feel as if I led you on with anything I said."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"And what do you think I might think you've promised?" Marcus inquires. "Beyond however much of the evening it takes us to enjoy our dinner. You haven't even assured me you're linger for dessert or coffee. You might have your entree, thank me for the meal, and catch a ride home. And if you did... I'd hardly think I was deceived. Not by you."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna glances over at him, a tiny smile lingering on her lips. "I'll stay for dessert and coffee. Unless, of course, you totally offend me in which case I reserve the right to stomp off. But I think that's already a given. One should always have the right to stomp off in a dramatic moment if one needs." She pauses. "I don't expect to have to, though. You'd have to say a lot to provoke that reaction and I don't think that's the kind of reaction you're trying to provoke."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Always, always," Marcus says, nodding, "you can even throw wine in my face, though that might constitute a waste of good wine on a bad man if I turn out quite that poorly." He dips his head. "Forgive me. I'm going to take out my phone so I can get us where we're going. I wouldn't otherwise let it intrude." As he retrieves the slim device he shifts a bit closer to her, letting his voice drop a tone or two. "I think you've a good measure of my intentions. I hope so. I wouldn't want to be the least bit ambiguous."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"I believe you've made it clear you're not running away, I know that much." Alanna grins, just slightly, glancing over at him as he uses the phone to determine their destination. "I'd say you're fairly clear. I think you'd have to work to surprise me. I don't anticipate throwing any wine on you either. I've never done that and I doubt I ever will. Besides, that'd be an awfully early end to a night I've left entirely open."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
He knows where they're going. He's quick to send the summons, and quicker to stow the phone, turning his attention back to Alanna. "I'm glad that, at least, is unambiguous," Marcus says, "and beyond that, too, I'm trying to keep my expectations in check. You came out of nowhere for me, Alanna. You surprise me again and again. I don't want that to end any earlier than it must, either. It's... good to be so happy not to know."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"You know, I would think that surprising you would be a good thing. Being safe usually appeals to people, not being around strange women who might bring them into danger." Alanna reaches over to rest a hand on his arm. "So as long as I'm not scaring you off, I'm good with that. A suprise is alright, a pleasant surprise."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus moves as her hand alights on him. His own hand rises, and finds a place on her waist. If not for the setting, they'd look as if they were about to start dancing. Facing each other, dark eyes meeting green, they meet midway. "More than pleasant," he says, "better than safe."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna laughs, looking at him with amusement, her eyes sparkling. "You don't even know the kind of trouble you're getting into and you think the jolt of excitement is better than being safe? You certainly are a strange one, Marcus." She doesn't seem too concerned, however.

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"If anything I think it makes me more like everyone else," Marcus avers, her laughter and sparkle bringing a wider-than-usual smile to his face. "Part of my being-scuffed- a certain recklessness. A failure of perfect judgement. Isn't that what people are like?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Wild and reckless?" Alanna gives him an appraising look. "I didn't picture that side of you." She chuckles, just a touch. "Does that mean I'm going to have to be keeping you out of trouble? I suppose that does, doesn't it."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Isn't that what you've said you'd try to do," Marcus says, "shield me from trouble? Only the trouble follows you, or so you seem to have said. Quite the paradox, Alanna. How could I not be intrigued?" As the stand, exchanging words and touches, the phone in Marcus' pocket buzzes. Their chariot approaches.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"It's different if you try to run into it rather than having it run into you," Alanna points out. "But I suppose running into /me/ already counts as trouble so..." She stops, giving him a bit of space to handle the phone as she glances towards the street. "We'll see if dinner scares you from all this or if it just intrigues you."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus makes the transaction with the phone as quick as possible. He exudes a brusqueness as he does, a light irritation that has a hint of anachronism, like he's a little bothered by the sheer /fact/ of phones, not just this specific interaction. He turns to regard the museum driveway, eyes scanning for the coming car. As he does, he sets his arm at the small of Alanna's back, casually resuming contact. "So we're headed towards a moment of truth, if that's the case."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
The contact with the phone is noted with some amusement, though Alanna does her best not to look like she's finding him amusing, just merely deriving amusement from the situation, which is also true. "Perhaps we are, yes, though I'm not sure if I'm more afraid of you saying yes and sticking around."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"If it frightens you," Marcus says, finding her eyes, "you can always walk away." There's an implicit challenge to the way he says this. "Without throwing wine in my face," he adds, lips curling into a smile. "That would leave me with the wrong impression."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"/I'm/ not the one walking away," Alanna challenges, amusement on her features. "Believe me, I'm going to be sure you're left with the exact impression I mean to leave you with. There aren't many things I'm afraid of, Marcus, and you and this situation are not things I fear."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Good," Marcus says. "Of the many things I'd wish you, fear is not among them. I'd much prefer excitement, amusement... even anticipation." The car rolls into view, a silver sedan, and Marcus hails it before moving over to open the door for Alanna.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
With the door held open, Alanna slides inside with all the grace of someone who's used to such a thing. It's a telling gesture. She waits for him to settle in at her side, making sure to give him space to settle in, but she's not shy with the space between them once they're on their way. "Fear is not something I like to be aquainted with."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus moves to take her hand once they are inside and buckled up. It's not likely that he missed her tell-tale comfort with the genteel gesture, but he doesn't make any remarks. The driver asks to confirm the location - Maiella, on the Long Island City waterfront - and then they are on their way. He looks to her. "You do strike me as nearly fearless. Though maybe it is more right to say that you seem courageous- that even if you were afraid, you'd still act."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna's hand rests in his. "I'm not fearless enough to jump into a burning building or save the day like many people I've seen, but I certainly believe I wouldn't be paralyzed by fear. I've seen too much to not act when something happens. Acting can often be safer, really, for yourself and those around you. I certainly would rather those around me not be hurt."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"It helps when those people are resistant to flames or faster than falling beams," Marcus remarks. He doesn't sound resentful about the super-powered, but he also doesn't sound /impressed/, which is itself something of a statement. "The world needs a range of mundanities. That is what makes it a world, after all, and not just a dream. And it makes actions like yours have that much more meaning. It's... more democratic."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"I'm certain my actions have meaning, though I don't know if democratic is the best way of referring to anything I do." Alanna seems amused once more, but her fingers squeeze his. "But you're right, not everyone can be immune to fire, and the world certainly needs a range of people. It would be very boring if we weren't all at least a little different."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Our range of difference is great indeed," Marcus says, with a little gravity, "and accommodating difference is a testament to any society. Particularly the democratic. But you have to find some way to create a field of the universal, the /shared/ if not the /same/. Equality is hard work to sustain." He smiles at the squeeze, tone turning a little less serious. "Well, you wouldn't be a princess if you were thoroughly democratic, would you?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"That's the ticket. Royalty is royal due to blood and not for any other useful deciding factor. Importance due to genetic ties rather than ones with any other sort of meaning. Makes you wonder what's in the blood." Alanna's used to this kind of train of thought. It's not the first time she's bought a ticket to ride within it. "Perhaps equality is hard to sustain, but when you put value on things you can at least control what's more or less equal."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"When it's said like that - 'genetic ties' - it sounds an arbitrary thing indeed," Marcus says, somberness descending once again. "But try getting elected in this country without some recourse to family values. Not that family need only be a matter of blood, but it still rates highly."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Family values is an interesting concept. A couple takes actions to create a family. They choose love, they choose marriage, they choose children. Obviously that isn't the case how it happens every time, but as a general concept, a family is created by choice. Family isn't the problem." Alanna glances sidelong at him. "It's /legacy/ that's the problem. Legacy is where blood sours. Why do you think history is so full of battles for 'legitimacy'. Is it the blood that somehow makes you worth doing what those before you did? What if you choose a different path? Will your genetic ties always lead you back?"

She lets out a small huff of air. "I apologize, I'm getting carried away here. You're letting me talk too much."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus listens with a steadiness that serves him well; he's good at appearing to pay close attention. It doesn't hurt that his interest is genuine. If anything he has to hide the depth of his reaction, the still-deeper chord the topic strikes in him. "If letting you speak is a fault," he says, brushing aside the apology with the slightest cant of his eyebrow, "it's not one I've any mind to correct."

Both to put her at ease, and to vent his own stirring thoughts, he weighs in: "Another trouble with legacy is that, if someone who's supposed to carry it on chooses differently, it casts doubt onto everyone who didn't exercise that choice. It's something that thrives on seeming self-evident, on the impossibility of the alternative. To make the cut- it can make those who keep those ties feel bound."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna glances over at him, nodding slowly. "That's certainly true, I'll give you that." She raises a brow just slightly. "Almost sounds like you're a little familiar with the sense of a familial legacy too. Certain you're not royalty as well?" There's a slight tease. "Perhaps even your attempts to hide amongst the masses has been discovered."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Not royalty, no," Marcus says, countering her tease with sincerity, "but I do understand what it's like to play the part of prodigal." The car weaves through Queens, but he's lost his sense of the journey, of projecting past the moment. The conversation has him, its remarkable resonances. "Though you do seem to have a knack for finding me out. From the start."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"It's my job to pay attention to nuance and find ways to quickly assess situations in order to find alternate routes to success. So those skills can be useful in other situations, but I suspect you're resonating a lot with my own reflections if you think I've gotten you figured out," Alanna offers him a smile. "Trust me, I haven't gotten you all figured out. That'd be boring, wouldn't it?"

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Some sort of business consultancy, then?" Marcus ventures, trying his best to parse her confessed specialty. "Not that you need to tell me if I'm right or wrong. I'm also happy to retain some mystery." He shakes his head. "I think you might intuit more than you understand. We're both thinkers, that much is clear, but when we feel something that doesn't lend itself to analysis... that's a particularly appealing mystery."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"You're on the right track. A bit of management, a bit of organization. I say it needs to get done, it gets done. I'm good at what I do because I have to be." There's some weight to the words 'have to be' as Alanna says them, glancing to him. "Somehow I think we both like solving mysteries, I think, and I believe we're both pretty interesting mysteries."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"The demands of duty," Marcus infers, or rather translates, into the royal terms he's chosen for her. "You do yourself too little credit. Many people have to be things but fall short. That you are able is something. Even if you be able, as well, not to be if you don't wish." He takes a few beats, his gaze thoughtful. He seems at the precipice of something, when the car begins to decelerate, the atmosphere of the interior changing in the telltale indication of arrival.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"I don't know that failure was ever an option. When you grow up in a unique environment there are certain things you learn are absolutes. Some rules you don't break. Some roles you take on not to break them." Alanna falls into silence as they appear to have arrived. At least there would be a moment or two to gather her wits about her. He was proving a challenge--he was keeping up.

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus considers her words with care, but doesn't yet respond, choosing instead of ruminate. When the car comes to a stop he thanks the driver, then steps out of the vehicle, making his way to Alanna's side with the chivalric intention of opening the door and offering her his hand to help her out. Whether or not she waits, whether she lets him, is another matter entirely.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
There's a very deliberate and calculated choice as Alanna slides over to the door but pauses to allow him to be the one to open it. When it's opened and she's accepting his assistance in exiting the car, it's clear that it's purposeful--it wasn't just a reflex to wait for someone to help because she was used to it. He was able to assist because she allowed it. There's a gentle squeeze on the helping hand once she's settled on her feet again, her attention once again returning to her surroundings.

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
The squeeze of his hand draws a smile to Marcus' lips, and he guides her with a sustained formality, over to the open air podium of the host. The gentleman at the stand smiles at them, sensing immediately their aura of affluence, as well as the subtle signs of their connection. He's seen pairs of people come here before, seeking a sunset view. "Reservations?" the host asks, not cagily but just as matter of course. "Xin-Murdoch," Marcus says, letting slip his last name. "Right this way..." the host says, taking two menus in hand and leading them into the restaurant.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
The name is taken in and remembered. While it would be impolite to pick up her phone and search the internet for any reference to him, Alanna at least internally tries to remember if the name were anything she'd come across--it was unique enough that she felt she'd know if she had. "I feel as if I'm at an advantage now. I know your family name and yet you don't know mine." If she's interested in changing that remains to be seen.

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Perhaps you'll be sporting and tell me yours, then," Marcus says, as they are led to their table, a round one by the railing that overlooks the water. "Though you're under no obligation. You may retain your mystery as long as you'd like." He pulls out the chair for her, continuing his gentlemanly protocol. It suits him, formality seeming native to his comportment.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Well that hardly seems fair," Alanna comments as to the suggestion of her continued mystery. The formality is accepted with the ease of someone who is used to it but at the same time aware that it's a continued choice rather than a mere reflexive gesture. She slides into her seat, though she fully waits until he's settled as well before speaking again. "Lyons." There's a pause. "The family, not the animals, though the name is sometimes all too fitting."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus takes his seat, and accepts the menu from the host, though he doesn't yet open it. His gaze is upon his dinner partner, his date, attentive as she evens the informational scales. "A pleasure to learn your full name, Alanna Lyons," he says, tone softly conversational - he wants to try out the syllables but not to broadcast it to the whole restaurant. "Would you say your family is marked by... pride?" A quirk of a smile accents this absurd little pun.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
The menu is taken with a soft thank you, and Alanna glances back across the table at him with a small smile. "You have no idea how many times I've heard every type of pun and joke on the name. Every one. The charity I used to run was called Lyon's Paw. It's a clever way to get people to remember the name--and also one that does a bit to strike fear into others. Multi-purpose name. Not intentional, it's legitimately my family name for generations back. It's Irish."

She watches him for another moment before opening her menu. "Hopefully by the end of dinner you won't need to do an internet search to discover all my dark secrets. I'll likely have told you them."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus gives a laugh, half rueful. "I'm sorry to have played into a cliché. I'll try and be a bit more original in future." He opens his menu one she does, though his eyes remain on her. Each new angle offers something - first the symphony, then the museum, now the restaurant as the sun slowly sinks in the sky. "I'd much rather learn about you from you. The proper study of Alanna is Alanna, I'd wager. And you will doubtless be more witty than any search engine."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna offers him a warm smile. "Trust me, while the reference is a tad overdone, it doesn't mean it's not still funny. Just don't make lion puns all night and you'll be doing just fine." She shakes her head, clearly picturing either that circumstance or one where someone actually did that. She lets her gaze fall fully to the menu so that she can actually make a decision on food. It doesn't stop her from continuing the conversation however.

"I doubt a search engine could contain my wit, yes," she agrees. "But what the world sees of me would be entirely different than what you might get over dinner. There are certainly opinions of me that vary /wildly/. Truth is never that simple."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"At most once more," Marcus swears, lifting a hand to seal the pledge, "I'll try to make it count if I do." At her cue, he begins to peruse the menu as well, his expression shifting into one of surprising seriousness, as if he were determining the fate of something more momentous than what the kitchen prepares for him tonight. His gaze does flick up briefly as she attests to the variety of opinions held about her. Interesting. "Usually it's public figures who invite that kind of variety of opinion. But it's also almost always some type of projection- hopes or fears, necessarily prejudicial, even when favorable."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"I look forward to your promised attempt then," Alanna's lips curl into an amused smile in his direction before her gaze is fully on her menu again. She seems to be lingering on some entrees, not lifting her head as she replies. "I'm a public figure, of a sort. You run in the right circles, my name alone would carry some weight. Less so would I be recognized on sight, but I do act as a bit of a public figure at times."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Even if you were a celebrity, I can't say I'd likely recognize you," Marcus admits, with that particular pride that some people have in being out of loops they regard dimly, "though if I did, I would- at once. I would not forget your face." He folds his menu and sets it before him, his own mind up. He does so discreetly, seeking to apply no pressure on his companion. Decision made, he gets to watch her own process. "I'm much the same. Though that means our circles must be distinct, otherwise there would be no mystery. Or seem to be no mystery. Of course we are always more than our most public appearance."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"So you're saying I'm memorable?" Alanna seems amused, taking another moment or two to browse before her menu is set aside as well. "I would say you're probably right, though. Our circles must certainly be different. Which, of course, is why this is both exciting and dangerous. You're someone not biased by running about in the same circle and making opinions based on that, but it's dangerous because I don't know how much my circle will try to spill over into yours."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"I'm saying you're striking," Marcus says, leaning into the compliment rather than letting it simply float, asserting not just what he says, but what he means, what //this// means. "If that's a concern... should we aim to be discreet? I won't mince words, Alanna- I'd like this to be the first such rendezvous. And I have no difficulty with the notion of remaining private."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna actually seems to be thinking about that prospect for a moment. "I'm not fond of hiding things. The idea of a full on secret almost seems more dangerous to me sometimes than the truth. If you attack an enemy, do you go for their partially hidden truth or their deeply held secret?" She chuckles lightly. "No, it's fine. There just may be times I have to veto a venue for security's sake."

There's a pause. "But we're talking about me an awful lot. What about you? Did you need me to stay a quiet rendezvous? You do have the chance to change your mind by the end of the night if you determine I'm terribly dangerous."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"I don't care for hiding, either," Marcus agrees, "and for much the same reason. To hide is so often to reveal. Better, generally, to go the way of a purloined letter. Hide in plain side- hide the very act of hiding. If you must hide anything at all." He shakes his head. "I... I simply value my privacy. Being a public figure, it can be at a premium."

He laces his fingers together and sets his chin atop them, gazing at Alanna. "I would rather be discreet. Not out of any anxiety that you would endanger my career, or my life. Just because it is..." he pauses, gives a wry smile. "If you'll forgive the unfortunately possesive choice of words, but- because it is nice to have something of my own. Something that is no one else's business."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"That's a welcoming thing to hear as it is a familiar sentiment. It is very hard to have something for myself that isn't mired in social politics. That is, in particular, what I appreciate about this. You're not from my circle, you have the freedom to move as you would wish," Alanna seems to be quite enjoying the thought, one finger tapping lightly on the closed menu. "Discreet I can do. I believe it would especially suit the situation."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"If I can provide you some line of flight from what circumscribes you, I'll be quite satisfied with my role in your life," Marcus says, hands settling back on the table, leaning back a little. They're in agreement, so the intensity shifts back into ease. "A way to abscond from the tower, even if you feel you must clamber back from time to time."

The appearance of the waiter, perfectly timed to coincide with a lull in conversation, prompts them to make their orders. Nothing if not decorously traditional, it's Alanna to whom the server first looks.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna offers him a smile in regards to his suggestion of him having a role in her life. However pleased she is, she's pulled from it in order to order her food. Cheese tortellini in a creamy alfredo is the entree of choice, paired with whatever wine recommendation the waiter suggests as a good match for the meal. She hands the menu back to the waiter, then simply leans on the table a bit as she looks across at Marcus, waiting for him to order. It at least gives her a moment or two to study him.

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"I'll have the rigatoni e cinghiali," Marcus says, "and a bottle of the Brunello. That is, if you don't mind helping me finish it?" He looks to Alanna. "I think sharing libations is important. It has ritual significance." He smiles. "It'll will help us make our own circle, just the two of us."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"I certainly agree. We first bonded over plastic champagne flutes... it only makes sense to continue." Alanna rests her hands on the table as she looks back over at him. "I also have, despite my upbringing being a bit untraditional, a very secretly frugal side. The idea of ordering a bottle of wine and /not/ helping someone finish it seems incredibly rude."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Are you saying you come from a legacy of extravagance?" Marcus says, marking down another clue in the unfolding Mystery of Alanna Lyons. "My own is more covetous than prodigal. Hoarding, gathering, collecting. Obsessed with potential over practice." Both their hands are on the table. Marcus is conscious of this fact. It would take a deliberate movement to have their fingers touch- and he does not yet make the venture, but the thought will not leave his head. He leans forward a little, conceding just a little to the urge. "But an open wine bottle must go from potential to practice quickly, lest that potential be lost."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"I come from a legacy. And when each generation works had and builds on the last and has stubborn workaholic values, it's not hard for there to be wealth. Coming from extravagance feels like treating it incorrectly. There was simply money, but it wasn't always spent in the ways one might think," Alanna's gaze moves to their hands. She doesn't move her own, it stays there, but she's certainly aware of th distance as well. "I'm fairly good at practicing. I enjoy the chance to act and attempt to bring something to success." She smirks. "Finishing a bottle of wine is hardly a task."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"You're proud of that legacy, then," Marcus says, in a tone that goes beyond a question, but also falls short of an assertion. A guess, then. A surmise. "But you're ambivalent about the circle it's placed you in. But wary, too, of expanding it. Of letting it spill over." His lips purse, then break into a smile. "Forgive me. I'm trying put together the pieces already, without considering the consequence. That's the trouble with enjoying mysteries- we need solutions, yet solutions often bring the thing we enjoy to an end. Only... I suspect it won't be so with you. People are one of the few things that a inexhaustible."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"I am proud that there are some people in my family that have worked hard. I don't necessarily agree with the /way/ they've worked hard." The way Alanna's mouth quirks to the side at the thought indicates her distaste for it. "I prefer that not everything touched by my family be tainted. In some ways, it's harder to stop that than others. In some ways, I don't know how to make it better." Her fingers stray just enough to touch his hand.

"People always change, that's why they're so interesting. You think you have them figured out and they've been changing whilee you've been puzzling through. I hope I prove to be an inexhaustible puzzle, Marcus."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"I think it can be difficult for people to disentangle a desire to do something different than what they have with a refusal to respect their accomplishments. It's a critical but sometimes fine-seeming distinction you make- to admire the work, but not the way. It's something I dare say I understand." His fingers slip over hers, and lightly clasp, connecting them across the table one she's initiated contact. "It seems the shape of our concerns overlap in key ways, even if the substance may end up being very different."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"It's a nice similarity. It's often a little difficult to wade through what's around me and find such things, especially with those I'm not already directly associated with." Alanna's fingers squeeze his for a moment. "So thank you for, at the very least, being a breath of fresh air. It's very much welcomed. I find that I have difficulty finding anyone or anything like that within my own direct sphere of influence, so for me to happen across this is a little surprising. In a good way, of course."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"A well-enough walked circle becomes a groove, and then a rut," Marcus replies, thumb brushing across Alanna's knuckles. The touch is light, slight, but no less significant for it; if anything, it is all the more eloquent for having to say more with less. "You are extremely refreshing, Alanna. It's taken me by surprise. I'd usually be in my office, even now, pouring over policy, or taking calls." He's getting close to saying just what, and thus who, he is, but he falls short of giving it a way. "It can be too easy to forget oneself in the name of duty."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Sounds like you're a very important man, Marcus, with very important things to do. Sure you can spare the hours to spend with a woman like me?" Alanna grins, just slightly, though her expression is still thoughtful. She's slowly piecing together those puzzle pieces together one by one to discover who he is in comparison to her. "But you're right. It's easy to get caught up in your work and forget yourself. It's a constant struggle, sometimes, not to let your work be the one thing that defines you. There's more to a person than just that."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"I don't know any women like you," Marcus says, "I suspect you are one of a kind. And deserving, therefore, of unique attention." It's quite the line, one that dares cross from the mannerly into the courtly, and then further into the absurd. But sometimes you have to overcome reserve- overcome the limits you set for yourself. And so he lifts her hand up and towards himself, leaning a little over the table to press his lips to her fingers, a touch of chivalry that is positively anachronistic. Courting absurdity by expressing courtliness. He lets their hands settle back onto the table, though with a slowness that suggests he isn't second-guessing his decision. "Funny how we sometimes need to find each other to remember ourselves."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Perhaps it's a gesture most /would/ find a little over the top in its courtliness, but Alanna smiles. She seems charmed by the gesture, her eyes moving slowly from their hands back up to his face. "I won't deny you that, I am certainly of a different make than most. There'll be no argument that I'm just one of the crowd from me. I appreciate the attention and certainly will take it as a compliment." The smile remains fond as she studies him. "It's like someone inking over a pencil sketch. Shape that was hinted at finds full definition."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
There is something a little out of time about Marcus, something that centers the gesture in relation to himself even if it is a bit out of synch with the world. And it finds its mark when it makes her smile. He inclines his head in a nod, even as he leans back a little, permitting their postures to grow a bit more casual. "Very aptly put. We can only really be sketches of ourselves when we're by ourselves. Left to ourselves for long enough, we even start to blur."

The wine arrives, a glass for her and a bottle for them both, and their attention is temporarily taken up by the need to inspect the bottle and test the vintage. While the first taste is offered to him, as the one who ordered it, he offers it up to Alanna. It's not just a courtesy but also a way of getting to know her better. How does she approach the wine-tasting ritual?

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"They say that about memories. Regardless of how sharp a memory is, your view of it changes over time. Small details change in the telling, and eventually the story might end up as something else entirely. Unless, of course, you have some kind of ability that allows for perfect memory, but not all of us are that gifted. Instead, we simply have to make new memories to replace the imperfect ones. Maybe we're the same. We forget about ourselves piece by piece unless we have to show them to someone else and we're able to define who we are."

Alanna glances over as he makes the offer, the tiniest hint of a raised eyebrow before she accepts the offer. It's a natural gesture, though--she's clearly familiar. The wine is swirled in the glass gently a few times before she takes a small sip, seems to think about it for a moment, then nods her approval. "I would imagine," she says, "that most of your dinners of this nature tend to be business in nature."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"I find it hard to believe any memory could be more perfect than its perception," Marcus says, once more signaling an ever-so-slightly-dim view of 'abilities', at least those made out to be qualitatively exceptional. "Even if you recorded every sensation in absolute detail, it would still be filtered as sensation- still be marked by the emotions and priorities that organize that experience. Which is what makes memories memories, instead of just data. Which makes life possible, lest we otherwise be lost in the flood of the world."

He watches as she performs the ritual deftly, and keeps quiet until each glass is filled and he nods his appreciation to the server. He sets his fingers on the stem of the wine glass. "Well guessed," he says, hand rising to clasp the bowl and lifting the glass in a toast. "To pleasure. As opposed to business."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"To pleasure, because business isn't nearly as enjoyable, regardless of what many workaholics will tell you," Alanna lifts her glass in turn for the toast before she takes a sip. "But you're right, it's hard to enjoy something more than being in the actual memory." She offers him a small grin. "For the record, I don't have perfect memory. You'll simply have to keep making new things for me to remember, then." It's a cheerful thought, a bit of a broader smile appearing as she clearly seems to be thinking of said moments to remember.

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus also takes the sip, completing the ritual. Here they are, then, enjoying themselves and each other just for the sheer sake of enjoyment. Without knowing quite who the other is there is not even the danger of falling into 'networking', that final awful appropriation of social connections into productivity. At most there is the sense that they are both from rarified parts of the world, and that sense leads them to seek escape- and thus find each other. "I trust we've done well for ourselves so far. You've never been far from my mind since our meeting, Alanna, and revisiting those moments has been my instinct since."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Networking is something she does far too often. Social business, being polite, it's all what Alanna is used to at this point. Spending a bit of time with someone who doesn't have (or at least appears not to have) an ulterior motive is uncannily refreshing. "I certainly didn't expect to make that much of an impression, but I've found you are very good at being distracting even when you aren't physically present."

Her wine is sipped as she gazes across the glass at him. "You know, I often think you're too honest of a person for me to catch you up in all of this."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus is pleased to hear this, his smile taking on an aspect of self-satisfaction when Alanna admits that he, too, has been something of a distraction, even when they're not in each other's immediate presence. It's evidently something he'd wish for, even if he wouldn't say it outright. "You say that," Marcus says, "but one of the most effective forms of misdirection is to have all the honesty up front so the dishonesty doesn't draw attention." He touches his fingers to his temple. "Not that I've been dishonest. Nothing besides the omissions we're both engaging in. I'm just trying to be clever. To impress you, I suppose."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"You don't have to go out of your way to impress me, Marcus. Though I'm touched you're making the effort. As for misdirection... I've certainly played that game before. It's a necessary skill when you're constantly playing some kind of theoretical poker game with people who think it's a military strategy game," Alanna seems a bit amused by some thought that pops up from that, but she gazes back over at him.

"In any case, you're doing fine in that area. I think you're clever and entertaining. I wouldn't be spending my time with you if there wasn't that."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"The difference between military tactics and poker isn't so vast," Marcus ventures, though one has to wonder what he knows about the former, even if he's played the latter. "You know what you have at your disposal, and must use every effort to learn what your opponent holds- and to win no matter what you have in hand." He chuckles. "And hope that when the river comes, you've not made a grave miscalculation." He inclines his head, curious. "So you often find yourself at odds with others? Yours is a competitive field, then?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Unfortunately so. I try to avoid that part of the job but... I'm the pretty face. Sometimes that's helpful in making nice and building connections between people. Soothing rivalries." Alanna offers him a smile. "Ideally, you never even have to play your cards. That doesn't always happen, though. The worst variable in these situations is the human element. People have egos, people are easily offended, people decide some things are more important than a business transaction."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Are you saying you'd rather get rid of the human element?" Marcus says, a brow arched. He's pressing a bit here, testing, but his smile keeps him from spilling over into a true challenge. He wants to hear her explain what she means- he wants to hear her. "That business would go more smoothly if it were just... rational transaction?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"I'm just saying that sometimes people need to get their heads out of their asses and stop being selfish or hating on others because of bruised egos," Alanna leans forward just slightly. "It's like swearing at a religious service. Certainly you /can/ do it. It's possible. But people are there for an entirely different reason than to listen to your swearing. It detracts from the enjoyment of those attending and could even make people angry. Why would you even do that, knowing the trouble it would cause and that if you, too, were there for a service..."

She shrugs a tiny bit. "It's more the idea that too many people are full of themselves, stubborn, and unwilling to negotiate. They also show that in the /most/ unflattering of ways. I am not joking when I say you're a breath of fresh air."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"That's a very business-like attitude." Marcus says, chuckling at Alanna's sudden touch of vulgarity - mixed with intelligence it has a very particular sort of honest charm. "And I sympathize. I've found, though, that - at least in my work- navigating ego, passion and pride, trying to get those cumbersome things in line with some common good, //is// the job." He dips his head. "Your example is a very good one- because are religious services precisely about trying to learn to let go of ego, passion and pride? That they need to be managed, overcome, is exactly the reason we have them."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"When you're raised in a world of business, that's what you get to know," Alanna says, though her cheeks are flushed a bit from the momentary rush of passionate dialogue. "I'm not able to fix the whole world to the way I want it to be, but I'd like to influence what I have access to in order to make things a little better for everyone involved." She smiles, just slightly. "Don't go thinking I'm some altruistic saint, though. It's still a business, money is made, I just like to be the one determining what and how."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"I hope I'd more sense than to ask a saint out," Marcus says, which a chuckle. "And I don't want to go multiplying your exceptional labels. First a princess, then a saint- what next? I'd rather know the you within those words, rather than gather more words. Words like that can be like walls, surfaces and barriers." He finishes his glass of wine, and - with her permission - freshens her glass before refilling his own.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna tips her glass in his direction for the refill, though she does seem amused at the labels. "People are rarely that simple. Everything exists in a grey area of its own. People who try to lean too hard one way or the other often prove themselves to be fools." She smiles. "It's nice to know there's at least someone with a little sense to look away from labels like that."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Fools are still preferable to knaves," Marcus says, taking another sip of wine, working on easing his reserve - even in his more daring or dashing moments, he has a sense of control and restraint, lacking the easiness that Alanna seems to whirl about her like a cloak. "The trouble is when fools lose their idealism so thoroughly they become willing to act knavish."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Your world is so full of princesses and knaves, it's a wonder you have any time for anything else," Alanna states with an amused expression, sipping from her glass of wine as she regards him. "But I suppose we're in a world of both. Though, I imagine you're the kind of person who keeps a close eye on the pulse of things. I'm willing to bet you're still interested in saving the world in your own way... and it doesn't require a cape."

There's a long pause. "Or maybe it does and this is your secret identity. I suppose I'll never know." She smiles across the table. "I don't think you're the cape type, though."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"I'd like to help the world save itself," Marcus says, sincere tone of voice bringing the statement from the level of platitude to one of pledge - this is something he at the very least /wants/ to believe. "We shouldn't need patrons and protectors. We might still, might be better for them, but the world I want is one that will never trade freedom for safety." He gazes at Alanna with dark eyes. And for all that he would wish to be open, there is still something hidden then, something withdrawn. Something so habitual he's forgotten he's doing it. "And I know there are any number of reasons for costumes, capes and masks. But you're right... it's not the sort of thing I go in for. Masks can be trouble for people on both sides of them. And capes... capes are for kings. This is a bad country for kings."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"You really are a visionary," Alanna seems both amused and serious at the same time. "I don't know that the world you'd like and the world you're going to get are one and the same. I like to take baby steps. I don't expect too much for people and I let them surprise me when they actually do above and beyond. Idealism is certainly nice, I just find that when you've got a clog in the drain, sometimes you just need to clean it instead of lamenting that we need to use the sink in the first place." She pauses.

"So how's your world look for princesses?"

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"And if the person endorsing sinks is a plumber?" Marcus asks, a dark brow lifted. "We should always ask 'cui bono' when it comes to defining the real and the ideal. The unimaginable can happen very quickly when the conditions are right. It's often just a matter of faith, of opportunity, the... breaking of a particular enchantment that seemed, so long, like a law of nature."

He smiles as she poses her question; well she should ask concerning royalty and reform. "The People love a princess," he says, as the waiter arrives with the food.

Alanna Lyons has posed:
Alanna sits back to allow the food to be brought out, glancing back across the table at him. "Yes, but perhaps not a princess who knows a little too much about plumbing." She smiles, giving a polite nod and her thanks to the waiter, taking a quick sip from her wine. "I find it's hard to be an icon and someone taken seriously. Sometimes that just means you can catch people off-guard, though."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus takes a fork in hand, tines held ready, though he doesn't yet tuck in. He's regarding her closely, his expression not judgmental but definitely considering. "I'd suggest," he says, after a moment's thought, "that if you wanted to safely disassemble a sink, there'd be no one better suited than a plumber. I don't think ideas and practicalities are always opposed. Nor must icons necessarily be all appearance and no substance."

Alanna Lyons has posed:
She oberserves him for a long moment, her fork in hand, and she taps it lightly in his direction. "Spoken like someone who's paying enough attention to things to understand why you need to take the sink apart." Alanna takes a piece of pasta, spearing it with her fork, though she doesn't eat it, she just looks over at him.

"I'm starting to really wonder who you are... aside from the charming gentleman across from me."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"Enough that you'd have me tell you?" Marcus asks, spearing a noodle and turning his fork, gathering the pasta around it. "Not outright, surely. You could ask me questions, and I could be compelled to answer. Limited to yes and no, perhaps? To keep the game going." He lifts the fork, letting the rich sauce steam in the early evening air. "What do you think?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Are you afraid that once the game's over you're going to find me too dull and uninteresting that you'll have nothing to keep you lingering until dessert?" Alanna smiles over at him, taking a bite of the pasta and enjoying it before she speaks again. "Perhaps I'm just curious because you've done a very good job making the conversation about me. Either you find me honestly fascinating for some reason, or you're very uncomfortable talking about yourself... perhaps some of both."

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
Marcus takes his first bite, taking his time to savor his food, giving a slight nod of approval. After he's washed it down with some wine, he sets his utensil down and regards Alanna with a subtle smile. "Rather vice versa. If my mystery evaporates, what will I have to offer? As things stand you might continue to think me a noble in disguise. But if I'm revealed to be a jumped up commoner?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Now you're making the assumption that the mystery's why I'm here. The mystery, Marcus, is just the entertainment. If I thought the mystery was what was worth it here, I'd be a lot more aggressive in my attempts to guess who you are." Alanna smiles at him, fork still in hand. "But I'm not. I'm waxing poetic and talking about ideals and things we might share. It's almost as if I was interested in you instead of the mystery." She grins across the table at him.

Marcus Xin-Murdoch has posed:
"I stand corrected," Marcus says, coiling another strand around his fork, taking his time - there is no wish to rush anything about this encounter. "But you still haven't answered me. Do you want to know about me? Do you want to ask? Because I could tell you. Shouldn't I, if the mystery doesn't matter?"

Alanna Lyons has posed:
"Go on. Tell me about your glamorous life as a philosopher who galavants across the world charming young women and having fine food," Alanna smirks, lifting up her wine glass and dipping it in his direction in a bit of a toast. "Paint me a picture of who you think you are, Marcus."