1088/To Greek, or not to Greek.

To Greek, or not to Greek.
Date of Scene:	10 April 2020
Location:	VIP Lounge - Hellfire Club
Synopsis:	A talk at the Hellfire Club about heritage and who is who.
Cast of Characters:	Alexander Aaron, Elektra Natchios

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Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Perched above the main floor of the club, set with a myriad of tables and alcoves in its depths, the VIP lounge in the Hellfire Club lives up to its name. Tastefully decorated, refined, and suitably staffed, it is a blessed haven away from the more frantic pace of the club below. The club that can be observed from this lounge, as a good quarter of the room allows one access to an open view from a balcony that would make Mussolini envious.
    Though at this hour of the night, things have quieted down below. There are still a good number of patrons, drinks still being served somewhat briskly, but the energy is less as the hour slips more to the morning than the night. And above the club in that lounge, it's much more subdued. Only a handful of people are making use of the room, and one of them... just so happens to be Alexander Aaron.
    A legacy member of the Hellfire Club, his father had some prominence some years ago and an offer was extended to him. He had arrived a few times, but is far from a frequent face there amongst the worthies. Tonight he had wandered in, smiled to the doorman and been shown to the lounge. It was there that he crossed the room and settled into one of those alcoves, spraaawling in his seat and taking a deep breath as he takes it all in. Then his backpack is set to the side and he withdraws a pad of paper as he sets up shop on one of those benchseats. One leg is up on the seat next to him, knee raised so he can write on it, the other is sprawled on the chair opposite him, giving him a commanding presence there in control of three of the four seats. So very rude.

Elektra Natchios has posed:
One of those VIPs that has chosen the lounge for a quiet, peaceful soiree was none other than Elektra Natchios. Now far from the usual ninja garbs she instead is dressed in one long, midnight-black gown, the tips dragging through the floor because really, you can't ever get too much flair when wandering about the Hellfire club. She has been talking here and there, meeting up with a few acquaintances, new and old, always polite, those refined, mediterranean features at their primeness of politeness. Truly an ambassador's daughter.

Sporting a martini with one hand she has made her way over to the balcony, taking in the partying going on below, watching the figures writhing in their dance, the mingling, dark eyes surveying them from above, considering them. A faint smile to her lips while she speaks with another greek dignitary in their mother language. A question from the older gentleman.

"When will you be coming to Greece again, my dear?"

The answer, "When I have some time to kill." that smile which shows teeth. Because in Elektra's case time to kill can mean so much!

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A piece of the background, not a mover nor shaker, not a dignitary of some country nor ambassador. The youth with the blond hair and the hazel eyes might well just fade into the tableau with little notice nor mention. Gauche to be wearing such casual wear, the shoes and jeans and that black t-shirt. It makes him look like perhaps he had slipped the tether of someone and suck into the place somehow evading security.
    And yet, the way his body language is read, he seems entirely at ease with who he is, where he is. But then he looks up when he hears those voices offering a casual back and forth in a tongue he's familiar with.
    Such curious hazel eyes slip across the way, following along with their conversation, idly marking the older gentleman. And then the younger woman. Perhaps part of that foreign party, or just an eavesdropper. Either way when he looks back down at the pad of paper in front of him his smile is a touch wry.

Elektra Natchios has posed:
"The country pales without your presence there, Elektra." The older man says, still in Greek, to which it receives a small, smooth laugh out of Elektra.

"Does it? I am never been the person to tie myself down somewhere for too long. You know this. Do give your wife my regards, Yanni." she tells the man in ways of farewell.

The man dips, offering a faux kiss on the woman's hand and then they part ways, Elektra roaming back towards the lounge, gaze looking about in a perhaps idle manner, studying the rest of the patrons here. One does seem to stand out due to the lack of formal attire. She looks at the young man in a thoughtful manner, then at the papers. Inquisitive, but she moves to settle down by herself on a table, hands smoothing her dress down while she crosses one leg over the other, elegant and prim.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    For a time he openly regards the passage of Yanni, watching as the man walks along making his way toward the elevator after offering that faux kiss. But then the youth's attention slips back toward Elektra as he regards the way the woman holds herself with open appraisal that takes a handful of moments, perhaps the space of a dozen heartbeats or so before she'll hear him lift his voice. Just loud enough to close the distance between them.
    And when he speaks it is with perfect Greek, utterly without accent.
    << Are you appearing before the nobility or more holding court? >>
    A curious question, and might seem judgmental to some or intrusive to others. But the way the half-smile lights upon the pale blond with the easy-going manner... it might rob any hint of sting from those words.

Elektra Natchios has posed:
Is Elektra surprised that the young man knows Greek? There might had been some signs, the way the man looked in their direction, or even in the more refined features on their face which may be telling of an heritage of another place than the United States. So her smile continues to linger upon her expression when her attention goes back to the boy. A sharp thing that smile, but no malice there, not yet at least!

<< Holding court would imply this was my domain. >> she muses, bare of accent too. But for someone who has lived for so long abroad as she did that wouldn't come as a surprise. << And far from me to imply such. >> she concludes.

A sip while she examines the young man in another light, asking. << The way you speak tells me Greece is your home country. It is always interesting to find someone else from the zone. >>

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    << I've been a few times, >>
    It's at that moment that a server steps by and smiles politely to Alexander, offering him his drink which is... apparently likely ginger ale with how it bubbles so nicely and is in one of those hexagonal glasses they reserve for non-alcoholic beverages. He accepts it with a smile and a nod before he sets it down upon the tabletop then pushes it away a little.
    Those curious pale blue eyes that fade to a deep jade green within their depths, they ease back over toward Elektra as he adds, << But my father, he carries a piece of home with him wherever he goes, >>
    Which is true, from a certain point of view.
    Lifting his chin he offers, << If you wish to draw attention then please remain much as you are. But if you wish to dissuade it then please feel free to join my table. I am entirely capable of sitting at peace and in silence if needs be. >>
    With that said he lightly moves his extended leg and nudges the chair with a small tap, easing it back and offering it to her since he's taking up much of the bench seat.

Elektra Natchios has posed:
The non-alcoholic beverage brings no specific reaction out of Elektra. She simply watches with that dark gaze, continuing to drink her martini in very brief, paused sips. One should always make sure to enjoy their drinks afterall. Rushing is so.., gauche.

<< One should never get too sentimental about a place. >> Is the reply about the boy's father carrying a piece with him every time. << Or often we can't embrace change as we should. >>

Yet then she seems to accept the invitation, getting up to her feet slowly and making way to where the youth has been sitting. She settles down on the chair. << I have no interest either way tonight, but simply to spend a peaceful night. But what is your name, young man? >> She then questions, chin slightly lifted, eyes studying. A neutrality to her own poise and expression, as if still in the process of passing judgement.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Alexander," The youth says with a smile flirting upon the edges of his mouth as he toys with his drink, swirling the straw around and letting the ice clink upon the edges. He then straightens up, sneaker sliding off of the seat next to him as he turns and sets the pad of paper and pencil down upon his backpack. Now he can focus entirely upon her, clearly an enemy of productivity and whatever it was that he was doing with the workpad beside him.
    "Alexander Aaron," His smile is a little wry, a little playful. Because /of course/ a father who was patriotic about his homeland would call his only son Alexander named after the most famous Greek of all.
    "Though I prefer Alex." He offers that insight now switching back to English, for some reason. Perhaps out of politeness to the possible eavesdroppers that might be listening in. Since one does not imagine a club named Hellfire to be a place that respects privacy. Discretion assuredly. Privacy? Never.

Elektra Natchios has posed:
"A big name to live up to." Elektra notes about the choice of name given. And it perhaps does give her some insight on what kind of man the boy's father would be. Does make sense. It also makes her wonder on who that father might be. She does know many of the dignitaries that have been chosen the Hellfire Club to join ranks, specially those from Greece. "Though now it does make me wonder who your father might be, Alexander."

"I am Elektra Natchios." Which to anyone with any contact to Greece would know her as the daughter of the late Hugo Natchios, Greek Ambassador here in the United States, and also a woman that has served as a diplomat for quite a few years.

"But very well, it can be Alex." she acquiesces, then a gesture to the pad.

"And what has brought you out here tonight?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The drink gets a bit more of his attention as he swirls it around, ice cubes clinking more against the sides, but then he pushes it away for now, letting his attention focus fully on the assassin he invited to his table. Pale eyes meet hers and he answers her easily enough, no hint of prevarication to him as he murmurs. "John Aaron." A beat, "He's in construction." Another pause as he then adds for completeness' sake, "And the union. Which eats a lot of his time."
    At her name, however, his lips part. "Ah, I think I've heard of you, Ms. Natchios. On the lips of my father as well. Quite the prominence to penetrate my cultivated sphere of ignorance."
    As he offers that curious turn of phrase he then shifts gears and answers her later question. "Ah, as to what has brought me here. Well. It's not very flattering. Makes me seem... petty."

Elektra Natchios has posed:
John Aaron seems to ring no bells on Elektra. Which either means the boy is a liar or there is something else beneath this. Either prospect seems enticing on it's own way so the smile she offers the young man is nothing short of a predatory gleam while she continues her study of his features.

"And is he here tonight?" she asks, almost in that way as if she wouldn't expect the young man to be here without being escorted by a parent. Or perhaps it's simply a small 'jab' to see the mettle on young Alex.

Regardless she only seems to smile at the mention that the name is one Alexander has heard before. She offers a brief nod of acknowledgement. "The world is full of petty reasons for us to do what we do. Please, do surprise me." an elegant gesture towards the pad.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Oh no," Alexander offers in response to the inquiry if his father is there. His brow knits as he looks to the side, as if pondering what it would be like to attend a party the likes of which goes on with his father and there's perhaps a subtle sense of a shudder there as if the idea did not strike him as a positive one.
    But then he looks back and takes a sip from his drink and then smiles wryly. He shakes his head a little as if while he chooses the words how to phrase it... how very silly it all seems. Yet she may note that even though the answer is not flattering it does not stop him from speaking. And if she is as strong a read of individuals as some claim she is, she might be able to read that he is at the least honest. Or believes himself to be.
    "It amused me, the idea of using my membership." He lifts his eyes up and shifts them to the side, one corner of his mouth twisting upward. "To come here on a week night, to sit in the VIP lounge, and recline like I owned the place. And to get a drink, and lounge there, while I did my homework."
    A small snort comes from him as his devilish smile meets hers as he then offers, "If only to say that I had. Perhaps a small trump card to be held in my backpocket for anecdotes in the future."
    Then he uncurls a hand, "And now, compound it with it being the time I met the Greek Ambassador's daughter. Lovely."

Elektra Natchios has posed:
"Such a pity.." Elektra replies of his father not being present, perhaps she'd want to dispel whatever mistery there is behind that. But she can accept that, lips again on her glass while she sips on her drink, now quite close to being done.

And then she listens on while the young man explains the reason of being here. "Considering what is rumored to happen in these halls a homework seems rather ..., mild." her smile showing teeth, perhaps some amusement there. "You like to go against the established practice, young Alex?" she then asks. Because indeed coming here to do homework does go against what most would expect out of such a place. One of refinement and high culture.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "The absurdity appeals to me," Alexander responds with a casual smile even as he looks across the room, looking from face to face to face. People watching, though perhaps less picking individuals out and more observing them as a mass. He settles back in his seat and then shifts his gaze back to her.
    "But, to be honest something about the place..." He lifts his eyes upwards, as if taking in the entirety of the club. "Is entirely too pleased with itself."
    He looks back then, meeting her gaze, as if trying to convey what he means but failing with the words and seeking if she's felt similarly. "I have met some very interesting people here, to be fair. But a large portion of them seem... charmed with their own cleverness. And this..." He gestures to the homework, "Might stem from that feeling."

Elektra Natchios has posed:
"Success normally makes people pleased with themselves, young Alex." Is Elektra's retort, offering a brief, solemn nod towards the young man, "Or at least what people perceive as success. There are many degrees to it afterall." she gesturing with one elegant hand while she speaks, eyes also roaming the place, idly taking in the apparent calmness, even if she knows well there is so much more underneath it.

"So you brought your own homework, to be charmed by your own cleverness too?" a bit of a twist to Alex's words, her smile curling up into a brief smirk. She seems the type that likes to twist words about. Yet still she is curious with the young man, for the moment.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Well, that is one of the benefits of just being so damned clever, you are always just entirely charmed with yourself." He casually nibbles on his lower lip with thought at that though his smile is a wry thing and devilish in its own offering.
    "But, in truth, I mainly thought it would make an amusing story I could tell a friend who might... find it humorous for her own reasons and connections to the club." At that he offers a small smile, "And it's enjoyable to make people smile now and again."
    That said he leans forward and takes a sip of his drink, then lifts his chin to her. "Now fair is fair, quid pro quo. Why are you here, Ms. Natchios?" For a moment those hazel eyes meet hers, and then pointedly he lets his gaze drift over her form, eyes lighting upon the supple curves of her form in that dress, but perhaps more taking note of the small tell-tale hints of a life beyond luxury that might not jibe entirely with the way she is presenting herself. The callouses upon knuckles from the long hours training, the glimmer in her dangerous eyes, and the way she holds herself. All curious and interesting to him.

Elektra Natchios has posed:
"Often to a point that you can become so obfuscated with yourself that you lack insight that there's always someone more clever.." Is Elektra's musing to what Alex tells her, a fingertip continuing to tap about the edge of her glass now, not drinking but simply watching the young man. "And well, I am simply hoping it does not become the norm. But then again it is also not the norm to have such young members here either. Though it's true one pops in from time to time..."

She then relaxes back on her seat, arms folding lightly over her lap. "Meeting new people, getting reacquainted with old ones. Following the tramits of society." she replies. "It is what we are expected to do, yes." though she does say in quite the neutral tone. Is it something she enjoys doing? Perhaps, to an extent.

"Yet what do you think I would be doing here, young Alex?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    As she speaks he'll watch her those eerie eyes holding her gaze and unwavering, giving her his full attention and to some they might find that a touch disconcerting. But there is no malice in his manner, simply curiousity, a thoughtful intrigue that is manifested in the slight tightening at the edges of his eyes. Then she suggests there might be someone more clever and he smiles a little more, accepting of that statement.
    But he doesn't speak until at the end. Those eyes with their subtle glimmer in them hold hers as he tilts his head slightly to the side. Almost something lizard-like in the youth's manner as he regards her.
    She has no idea that he can sense aspects of things around him, coupled with his fair ease at reading subtle mannerisms in people. But with her there is something different. Most people have an eternal whisper in their minds, small touches of fear and anxiety that influence their actions. But her... she seems to have none of it.
    And then he offers his voice in answer. "I think you're bored, Elektra."
    That much is offered as he cants his head the other way now. "I think you are here looking for a distraction in some ways. Looking for someone to misstep so you can have a socially acceptable excuse to offer some reprisal. But also something of a distraction from the pace. Perhaps waiting on something. Or someone."
    His lip twists a little and he says, "You remind me of my friend when he's looking for a fight."

Elektra Natchios has posed:
"Bored." Elektra echoes, her nostrils flaring and she letting out a brief snort. Fingertips take her glass up, again a sip, just a small remnant left on the bottom of the glass. "Perhaps years ago that would had been true." but then a gesture with her hand towards the rest of the room. "Yet as I am now I have learned to value time somewhat better. Sometimes you are not aware that you have gone by an opportunity until years have passed you by." she states. Speaking by experience? Maybe, though no inflection to her tone, or signal there. Her demeanor remaining just the same. "One thing is true though. Interesting people are always welcome. And you do seem to at least have a little more substance than others I have met in these halls, even if you do seem rather young. Which then brings up the question of who exactly you may be." then she considering. "Or maybe it's a question of lineage."

"What would I find if I set my resources working on finding out who you exactly are, young Alex?" a challenge to her tone there?

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Ah, as to that..." The youth smiles a little and leans forward now, resting his hands against the base of his glass, thumbs behind and touching tips, index fingers in front and touching there as well. He lowers his gaze to it as if trying to perceive some particular design he might be making or if there is some glimmer of a symbol to be discerned there.
    But then he looks up thoughtfully and he murmurs, "It would depend on your resources. And how much you chose to put them forward."
    "Could be dangerous though, extending of yourself out of /boredom/," He says as if to drive his point home and teasing her. Teasing her? When has someone she's first met had the gumption to do that?
    "For sometimes just the query can draw attention. Suppose my father is connected with some sort of craziness. Mob boss? Secret Rock Star? Royalty in exile?" He shakes his head, lower lip curving down as if the idea was too risky. "Best to just ask me and offer up something in trade. Something equivalent. Some insight that you would ask you were you me. If you knew better."

Elektra Natchios has posed:
Elektra listens with an impassive look to her, taking in Alexander's expressions and gestures, storing them for her own study of the young man. Her brow arches simply and she tells him. "The question could also be, why offer when I can simply take?" she wonders. "Because starting with the assumption that we'd both be at the same level does not seem entirely fair now does it?" she questions, tone staying even, without a change of timbre to it.

"Yet if you could prove to me that you are worthy of information about myself perhaps an agreement could be found. Yet it may also put you in danger of showing too much of your hand and me not needing to make the question anymore."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Ah, but show me mine and I'll show you yours is much more fun than the opposite." There's that lovely tension there, he can feel it, she can likely feel it. That subtle or not so subtle threat to her words. That she could simply take what she wants and have it without his permission nor protest. He does bite his lower lip for an instant, looking curiously at her.
    "But, you would be correct, we're not quite on the same level depending on how one considers these things." His own casual rejoinder, just as edged, just as rife with tension.
    "Proving worthiness, however. Hm." And that is when he uncurls a hand from the base of his glass and extends it to her palm up as he lifts his eyes to meet hers, "If I may?" He asks of her, and if she is kind enough to offer her hand in return she'll feel the warmth in his touch. Perhaps sharing a little of his own cards without being aware of it. Warmer than normal, and his skin is pale, marble-like in a way. And perfect. But then he lightly touches his thumb to the firm curve of her wrist, then turns her hand slowly over. Fingertips brush along that callous of one knuckle, down to the subtle curve of what might be old scar tissue mostly healed over. A gentle caress upon the back of her wrist where the flesh is just subtly darker.
    His eyes lift and he tilts his head to the side as he murmurs, "You favor your right hand. Though you at times lead with your left to confuse people facing you. You prefer straight and quick movements, a narrow blade. Thrusting. But the guard at times rubs... right here." As he says that his thumb lightly touches the flesh between thumb and index finger.
    Then he reaches forward with his other hand to run a fingertip over her knuckles as he murmurs, "No stranger to strikes." His eyes drift up along the curve of her arm, and then to her eyes again. He releases her hand.
    "You are dangerous, Ms. Natchios."

Elektra Natchios has posed:
"You seem to know fighting well, young Alex." Elektra replies while the man reads her 'palm' so to say. She allows it, even if one eyebrow does arch at the details he goes to. And her answer does seem to confirm that at least part of it should be true. Or at least a measure of it. As with everything that relates to Elektra.

She retrieves her hand to again take her glass, bringing it to her lips to drain it fully. "Every woman is dangerous. You will learn that soon enough." she tells him and then finally asks, "Yet with all this information that I have just given you...." because of course it was her that simply offered the information, not something he gleaned all by himself, ".... it does seem like a fair trade from knowledge out of you, does it not?"

And then she waits, her hands resting upon her lap.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    There's a twist to his smile as he eyes her askance and he tells her idly, "I find your bargaining posture highly dubious." But then he takes a deep breath and then lifts his chin, meeting her gaze. "But very well. I'll answer one question offered to me. I'll answer it with the truth, though you should word it precisely."
    The rules are established, small boundaries set. Almost like a free kick and she's given the ball as he leans to the side, supporting his chin with his hand as he watches her curiously. Then he angles his straw back to take a sip as he uncurls a hand. "Or... perhaps you had another idea?"

Elektra Natchios has posed:
"Perhaps I am simply obfuscated by my own cleverness." Is what Elektra replies, perhaps an allusion to their earlier conversation. But at least she remains engaged for the moment, even if her drink is now over. Normally a sign that she will be leaving soon. Yet then the question comes, about one answer being given to a precisely-worded question.

A thought, and then she seems to accept it. "Very well." a gesture with her hand to the young man. "What is your lineage?" which in the end has been what has made her curious so far.

Other questions would come eventually, maybe even at a later date.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Ah, pride." Alexander tells her as she asks that question, as if she were choosing to prey upon it. "I didn't know my mother, she was..." He uncurls a hand and murmurs, "Blond, as you can likely imagine. From Norway via Wisconsin." He straightens up in his chair, "My father is John Aaron, the answer meeting your request. But a lineage requires the father's father as well, for if I am to answer truthfully then there is no point in secrecy held at other points."
    So he takes a deep breath, "My grandfather, is Zeus Panhellenios. In turn my father is Ares Enyalios, lauded by the Spartans in their time. And I... well I am much younger than them, I'm called Phobos though I've earned the mantle some three years passed."
    His hands spread a bit, opening in a gesture of verbal surrender. "Thus you have the answer."

Elektra Natchios has posed:
At least she doesn't laugh, Elektra calmly listening while the boy goes over his lineage. He has read her hand, knows how dangerous she can be, and how a less than honest answer could be. So instead she chooses to believe this. She has seen stranger, and considering what she has dealt with these last years means it's not as far-fetched as someone less knowledgeable would consider. "Ah, so there is my answer then." she does seem satisfied.

"Very interesting, and quite the pedigree. It answers much more than I originally expected. And Phobos does mean fear, am I to expect you to have some kind of kinship to it?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A small nod is given as he shifts his weight to the other arm, features turned up into a small smile though there's a hint of sadness there. "Indeed, a close kinship. But see, now you have the answers before you, the mystery mostly solved. You flipped to the end of the mystery novel and read about the murderer."
    Shaking his head slightly he takes another sip of his drink. "And now you're back to the beginning. Unless you're still curious about your newfound toy and what it can do."
    "Though I admit as to my own curiousity. But I don't know if I have sufficient curiousity capital to keep you engaged."

Elektra Natchios has posed:
The woman lets out a rich laughter. "Oh, dear. Is that all there is to you? Your heritage? I find that unlikely." She muses. "Perhaps I simply skipped the boring parts ahead and now the interesting ones will begin." though she does get up to her feet. "Yet this will be something for a further conversation. I will be magnanimous and allow you enough time to gather that capital to keep me engaged." she offers. Not that she sounds that magnanimous. But yet there is no malice or mockery on her tone either.

She offers the young man a bow of her head. "Though I am certain I will be seeing you around, Alexander." a gesture about. Though who knows what the future might bring?