2110/Shared Stories

From Heroes Assemble MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Shared Stories
Date of Scene: 14 June 2020
Location: The Public House - Hellfire Club
Synopsis: Nyssa and Alexander chat.
Cast of Characters: Nyssa al Ghul, Alexander Aaron




Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
The Hellfire Club turned out to be a worthwhile place to occasionally do business. After all, when you're a certain level of rich, it's not about money - it's about the things you have that no one else can get. And it happens that arts and antiquities are among the best of those things, and Nyssa is among the best at acquiring them. Among other things.

She's just finished closing a deal with a member for a lesser-known Jackson Pollock - chance-purchased years ago, but they don't need to know that. Sometimes investment really is just about letting something sit for long enough. And now that the deal is done and some goodwill gained, it's time to allow //that// to sit and accrue interest for a bit. In the meantime though, she may as well have a drink before she leaves. Expensive heels, plain black pencil skirt, and silk blouse make it clear she's on business...but this is Manhattan. Lunch martinis are sacred.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    There is ever an air of potentiality to the Hellfire Club. The feeling of portent that seems to be imbued in the very atmosphere of the rooms and the foundation of the elaborate building with its myriad of secrets so hidden. It is perhaps that feeling, that sense that people trade on when there for there is an element of the fantastic to matters. As if one cannot be sure what will happen, or who might well walk through that door.
    Oftentimes on any given night the city's elite will wander through the entrance to the club, then on through to here in the Public House. People interested in making deals, learning of people, trading what they have too much of for what they have too little of such as that painting so recently acquired. But for a fair number of people it is the spectacle that is important. The observing of time spent and fortune made that can be wonderfully entertaining.
    And truth be told, Alexander has developed a taste for it.
    Alexander Aaron, a legacy member due to his father's involvement in the club can be seen at times here. Sometimes cheekily working on a notebook or reading a book while reclined in a seat. Other times actually entertaining friends. Though this time, this evening, when he walks through the door and gives a nod to the man at the door, his greeting is saved for the bartender instead. Not quite as she may remember him. Not wearing that overly casual ensemble of t-shirt and jeans. No this evening he wears black dress pants, a white shirt with a buttoned down collar, and a black vest that grants a place for a pocket watch to rest of all places, a touch anachronistic in some ways, or perhaps merely fashionable.
    He steps to the bar, then waits to gain the tender's attention.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa accepts a martini glass from the bartender just as Alexander arrives, her gaze following the man until she sees his next customer. One brow arches and she tsks softly, hiding a flicker of a smile with a sip from her glass. "And here I thought you were a young rebel," she chides, setting the glass down neatly. "Interview for one of those colleges, perhaps?"

She keeps an eye on the bartender afterwards, interested in seeing if he offers a drink to the young man. Not that she has any strong opinions on when children should be allowed to drink. It's more that she's interested in seeing how the 'rules' play out here.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    For a moment when those curious eyes slip to the side to focus on her she might see a flicker of something in the hazel irises. Irritation at the interruption? Some sort of blaze of a growl that is unuttered? But as quick as that look is shot in her direction it's replaced with recognition. It's not an immediate recognition as she likely can see for half a second as his mind seeks, then draws her name forth, "Nyssa."
    She must have left an impression for him to have remembered her so easily, but she likely is used to leaving said impressions so strongly. "I'm attending ESU, the Summer semester."
    The tender, perhaps to her chagrin, brings forth a glass of bubbling caramel coloured liquid which likely is a soda of some kind and he takes it up then draws it toward himself. His gaze does not slip away, eerie eyes holding hers as he lifts his chin slightly.
    "It's good to see you again."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"I suppose congratuations are in order then," Nyssa raises her glass with a tip of her chin, taking another sip. There's no approval or disappointment when the bartender delivers something non-alcoholic. It's simply another thing to note. Knowledge will always be a sort of power. "To your continuing education."

"I had some business with a member," she adds afterwards, glancing back toward another section of the club. "It seems this was indeed a good place to do some business. Why such conformity then?" she asks, gesturing to the suit with one finger.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The youth's eyes flicker with amusement as he watches her lips move with those words offered him, but then return to her gaze once she finishes speaking with that casual barb tossed his way. He lifts his chin and motions to the side with the uncurling of his empty hand, gesturing so. "Would you care to join me?"
    And as he asks that he already begins to move, taking a few steps toward the nearest empty booth that will suitably perform well for a casual conversation such as this. For if she chooses to join him, at least then she'll have the answer to the question she asked as he slips into the seat.
    "Conformity." He says that word, rolling lips around each syllable as if recognizing the casual umbrage he's supposed to take for such teasing. But he seems at ease with it as he replies. "You know I can clean up well. It's not /always/ jeans and t-shirts. Sometimes I like to look nice." But even as he says that she likely can read him well enough that that isn't the real reason. Which is forthcoming when he half-grins and then adds...
    "I was meeting with a family friend. And he deserves respect. He is an elder and... I kinda like him."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa laughs softly, stepping away from the bar to join him at the booth. "I have known a few such people," she nods in understanding, settling in comfortably. "Though there haven't been many I would admit to //liking//," she muses, taking a sip. "Still. There are worse things than having role models."

Crossing her legs, she leans back and considers him with a slight tilt to her head, taking in details. "Anyone interesting?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The young man responds easily after he takes a sip of his soda then sets it down on the tabletop. Turning sideways a little and resting his leg upon the empty seat beside him, he rests a hand upon his shin and watches her with those curiously pale blue and green eyes. "Master Oyama."
    And if she is an individual who pays attention to the various grand training halls in this city or that, she might well know that name. Someone she may have even trained with in the past. Or perhaps with her length of existence on the Earth... someone she trained herself.
    "He's a friend of my father's and took a hand in training me for a few years. He likes to have me check in now and again." He crinkles his nose as he leans to the side a little. "If I don't show up properly dressed and speak in just the right tone he demands a sparring match to prove that he hasn't lost a step." His nose crinkles a little, but there's an affection in his tone.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"Ah, yes," Nysaa laughs low. "Those sorts of family friends. Yes, those I am familiar with." It's possible she's //become// that family friend to more than a few people over the years. Likely, even.

He's subjected to another speculative look, weighing. "Master Oyama," she echoes. "Well. A less public option than military school for misbehaving youth."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Eyebrow quirked, Alexander sniffs affectedly as he lets his eyes slip to the side before they return to her askance as if eying her anew. "You seem to have a low opinion of me, Nyssa. A conformist who clearly must be disciplined, a wild and raucous youngster." His hand upon his shin tightens as he pulls that leg up a little more into his lap, almost like a yoga posture of half-lotus as he crinkles his nose a little.
    "But he is getting on..." And that does cause his mood to shift slightly as his eyes slip to the side, biting his lower lip reflectively. A small shrug is given before he turns back to look at her.
    "In any case, I would ask you what has you so dressed up and looking terribly beautiful, but I get the feeling you do not spend much time in casual wear as I might."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"Is that not the impression you intended to give?" Nyssa counters, arching a brow in turn. There's a flicker of a smile across her features, more knowing than challenging, before she takes another sip of her drink. "When you choose to present a face to the world, you inherit all of the assumptions that go along with that face." There's a pearl of wisdom that sounds like it ought to be coming from an elderly Master Oyama more than a relatively young woman.

She waves a hand dismissively, fingers flicking. "I was closing a deal. And as I said, sometimes you need to present a certain face to the world. People paying obscene amounts of money for art and the privilege of saying they spent that much on art have certain...expectations of the people they buy from. Otherwise they don't feel their money has been well-spent."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Eyebrows lift as he tilts his head to the side, likely agreeing with the sentiment of her words as he nods. A sip of his soda is taken again as he considers what she's said. A small exhalation is heard from him, almost a 'heh' as he shakes his head and ponders her.
    "I would say that I don't try to give an impression to the world, that I don't care what it perceives of me but that isn't strictly true." Yet he does not elaborate one way or the other, at least for now.
    "Though I suppose you're right, if you must play at a role, best to meet the expectations of those you're dealing with." He pulls his drink closer, but does not sip. Instead he lightly stirs the ice with his straw, then fishes out a small shard of it to crunch between molars.
    "I get the feeling Master Oyama would not take exception with whatever facade you chose to present."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"I should hope not," Nyssa sniffs softly. "I take great pride in the faces I present to the world." The statement is followed by another flicker of her lips, this one more wry, self-deprecating. "Which, admittedly, is why I choose not to be the eccentric art collector," she chuckles. "That is the alternative to a well-polished, wealthy, and educated woman of the world. People do accept a certain amount of eccentricity when it comes to those who believe themselves artistic."

She looks back to him, comfortable. "There's value in being underestimated though, if your pride can take it. I'd assumed that was at least part of why you chose as you did. Was I mistaken?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Mmm," Just a sound that comes from him as he looks at his drink. A glance given back upwards to meet her eyes after that ambivalent answer but then he elaborates after he takes a deep breath. "Best to not make too many waves, nor to draw too much attention. Best to just wander along."
    As to who he's quoting it might well be difficult if not impossible to determine who. But he says those words as if he'd heard them many times before. "But I don't feel the need for recognition. I think more..." He rests a hand on the tabletop, then uncurls it toward her.
    "I think more I just wanted to wear some nice clothes." And, to be fair, those clothes do fit him well, though much differently than the loose easywear he usually has. For those clothes would obscure the subtle line and strength in his physique yet the tailored clothing he wears now might well hug the contours of his chest, his arms, a subtle strength in them when he gestures.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"A valid choice. And they do suit you well." Nyssa raises her glass in salute, smile faint at the pun. Definitely an old-person thing, enjoying //puns// like that. "I myself prefer to present myself in a more...sophisticated fashion," she says, gesturing to her own professional attire. "I'm reasonably certain it's the only reason for a woman to ever wear heels. And if a woman ever tells you differently, check your wallet when you're finished," she drawls, dry.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Another chuff from him, and he manages not to roll his eyes at the punny aspects of her words. But he doesn't break eye contact through them so she likely can tell his vague displeasure. Though perhaps it is played up a touch if only to tease her back.
    "Well," Alexander tilts his head to the side and then tells her with that oh so wry half-smile, "I understand some people who are not quite as gifted when it comes to aspects such as perhaps... height, that they feel the need to gain a few inches now and again to help present the right illusion of them not being super short. And tiny."
    That's right, he called her short and tiny.
    "But I suppose we do what we must to present the image we so wish." Giving her words back to her, but adding a subtle tone to them that is, alright, assuredly teasing now.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"People make too much of height," Nyssa laughs, apparently taking no offense from his words. "A few extra inches certainly isn't worth the utter foolishness of high heels. Though the aesthetic is nice enough," she allows, glancing down her leg to admire the shoes. They are, after all, designer.

"Luckily, we are past the age when you need to worry too much about //wearing// heels," she chuckles, looking back to him with a wry smile. "Though at one time a club such as this would have been full of young men thinking much of how they looked in heels. Utterly unfair, really."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A light breath of a laugh as he meets her gaze, eyes following the line of leg to the heels then back up to her eyes. "Really?" He asks her about the comment about young men in heels and that is clearly not an experience or a touch of knowledge he's been granted.
    Instead he looks aound the place and ponders, "I've never given too much thought to my appearance beyond..." He seems about to say something, smiles a little and shakes his head. "Beyond occasionally wanting to look nice for a paramour or some such." The use of that word might seem strange coming from someone his age, but the he looks back up.
    "Though!" He gets a faint grin, "I met two Asgardians, who proceeded to give me no small amount of sass about my being so short in comparison to them."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"Mmm. A fashion that got its start in the French courts," Nyssa nods, taking a sip of her drink. "Men wore them for similar reasons that women wear them today. They believed that heels would show off their calves. I doubt they were considering the effect on their backsides, but the calves at least. You can see it in most Enlightenment art," she adds.

The mention of Asgardians gets another of those faint smiles, followed by a low laugh. "I suspect we are //all// rather short in comparison to most Asgardians, from what I've seen. I'd think they had better things to be smug about than their height though."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The memory she can likely read is a genuine and warm thing, it brings the smile to his face easily and even lends itself to a flush of color on those handsome features. He crinkles his nose slightly and then murmurs, "It was a fun time, during some craziness in the city."
    He's likely not saying something, or perhaps not giving the entire picture, but he tilts his head back the other way as he tells her, "There was some small aspect of competition and I gave them a hard time for being... you know, Asgardians. With all the thees and thous and their whole renfest gimmick. And, to be fair, they gave me grief back. And in part was about my height."
    His lip twitches then he shrugs. "Was all in good fun."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"For shame, mocking the speech of someone who's picked up another language," Nyssa smirks, chiding in jest. "I'm sure they survived your barbs just fine. And you seem to have come out of it well enough yourself. Though competing with Asgardians?" She arches a brow at him. "Brave. Just what was it you were competing at?"

It's not that she expects an honest answer. She knows better than that. It's more that she's interested in hearing what kind of lie he'll come up with.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Swordplay," Comes from him easily as that, one hand lifting as he answers her almost immediately, though there's no glimmer of regret as if he misspoke. He just seemed fine with telling her this at the least. "I told you my fatherhas had me train at length the martial studies and all. There was some back and forth about the proper use of a blade and I introduced them to a thing called a rapier."
    His lip twists at the memory and then he gives a small shrug in reply. "But they are very strong, and their sense of swordplay is a touch different. Still, was fun to compare and contrast and see what was what."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"Mmm." Nyssa seems to mull it over for a moment, then laughs. "Yes, well. One tends to play to one's strengths when it comes to swordplay. I imagine they're prone to overly large weapons and relying upon strength over strategy. For which I can't blame them," she adds quickly, raising a hand as though to forestall any objection. "I understand they're nigh on invulnerable to most normal things. It would be foolish //not// to use that advantage."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "And you, Nyssa?" Alexander's head tilts to the side with such open curiousity. Perhaps in some circles it might seem rude, or it might seem too inquisitive, but she has had no shortage of questions for him. So clearly he assumes he is allowed. "Have you played at sport in such a way?"
    The youth's tone takes on an almost formal tone to it, as she might well have heard in the proper courts some hundred and some years ago.
    "Are you a talent with the odd long sharp object?" He swirls a finger through a small circle and then pokes the air as if scoring a touch even as he grins wryly.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"Long, short, sharp, blunt, odd, common," Nyssa waves a hand dismissively. "I'm passingly familiar with most. The sort of study one must make, you understand," she smirks back at him. "History is a...hobby of mine." If by 'hobby' you mean 'life experience,' sure.

"But I believe you noted such at our first meeting. Which was notable," she adds, one brow rising. "There are few people anymore who can even recognize those signs."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "I did," The youth says as he meets her gaze, "There are some people you get a feeling for," His head tilts to the side one way, then the other as he looks at her. "It's hard to describe. Might just be when you notice those signs." His hazel eyes lower to her hands, the small marks there had been that told those tales to him of what had passed for her.
    Then he looks back to her eyes and murmurs, "But you know when someone knows how to fight." A simple way to say it, or to describe the way 'chi' feels between two fighters, or that simple instinct drawn from deep in the well of the abdomen.
    His eyes hold hers and flit back and forth between each iris as he looks when he finally adds, "And when they've killed."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa arches a brow at the last, seemingly unperturbed. "A bold accusation," says, sipping from her glass once more. "Though historically..." Trailing off, she shrugs. "People in the modern world are disconnected from the process of life around themselves to an unprecedented degree. Finding someone who's so much as killed for their supper grows more and more rare, especially in a city like this," she gestures around them.

"The stakes of life used to be so different from what they are now. The world...has changed in the last fifty years. Exponentially."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    There's no craft in his gaze, there is simple appraisal and consideration. No attempt to make some sort of play to draw forth more, perhaps what his earlier words were... were perhaps a showing of a hand as if offering it given in good faith. So he listens to her, listens to the steady pacing of her words and the subtle shifts of her manner. Then when she finishes speaking. He nods.
    "There are some who would say that is because mankind has bettered itself, or grown beyond the need for casual violence in some ways." Some who would say. Though perhaps not him.
    His eyebrows lift as he rests a hand around the base of the drink before him, lightly brushing at a small beadlet of condensation upon the glass with the pad of his thumb. "Or it could just be that most of mankind is far removed from the state of nature." Ooh Hobbes. Someone must be taking psych 101.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa snorts softly at the first. "I assure you, mankind has not changed its essential nature in the least," she drawls, shaking her head. "Though they've gotten...better at hiding it. And further from nature is true enough," she adds, tipping her glass in his direction.

"The targets have changed. The methods of attack have changed. Now they send giant robots after mutants, as though it's substantively any different from sending SS soldiers after Jews. But it isn't."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "You seem to speak from more direct experience in some ways." The blond youth leans towards her and rests his elbows upon the table, his hands curling around them as his shoulders slouch a little. He's watching her openly now, not the casual smiling glance and conversational gaze. But appraising, measuring.
    "I'd ask you to tell me your story, to share your tale. In return I'd offer my own, but I feel that wouldn't be an honest bargain. For I don't really mind the telling of my own. Though you..."
    He blinks slowly, "I get the feeling you would not wish to surrender that edge of yourself too easily."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"I could tell you many stories, Alexander," Nyssa sighs, tipping her glass back as she drains the last of her drink. "But I'm afraid most of them are...unpleasant. And not for the ears of the young," she adds, lips twitching into a tight smile as she tries to make light of something that she clearly doesn't take lightly.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    There is one thing about not entirely minding that your identity might be known, or feeling that invulnerability and immortality of youth that grants one boldness. Only with Alexander it is doubly so for he is truly immortal as well. Such Hubris must be a terrible burden to bear, yet he does so as he can, yet still... a flaw that's there to be seen in his eyes.
    "Stories can be so interesting though. I have one to share." He straightens up a touch, hands still curled around his elbows as he watches her. "Imagine if you will, a blonde kid about yea high." He holds a hand out to the side, "Who thought the world was idyllic and that it was normal for his father to give him a sword when he was three years old and told him to defend himself. Or that he received his first pistol at four years old and wasn't allowed to eat until he could break it down, clean it, then reassemble it in five minutes. Super interesting right? But then evil bad things show up and take the child away. Leading to the youth discovering his father is not all he seemed. Stop me if you've heard this before."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa leans back into one corner of the booth, dark eyes steady on him as he starts to speak. "Again, historically..." That faint smile touches one corner of her lips again. "Not the most unusual story. But do continue," she invites with a wave of her hand, eyes more serious than her expression.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    And so he does, continuing on with that steady calm yet bemused tone as he recites an amalgamation of his life's events into a casually told story that belies the weight of the matter. "The child is whisked away where he spends..." A hand lifts and uncurls, "However many years it takes to fight a war against his father's people. It is there, amongst the horrible things that he's told who he is and who his father is, the ills his father hath wrought, the crimes of his family. And lo did it fall unto him to pay for these crimes and wage war upon his family."
    The smile given is light and all too casual, "But then enter the father and a rescue is made. Eventually the man and boy are brought back to their home. Some time passed, subjective in some ways considering the whys of the where they were."
    He takes a breath, "But there, now once again surrounded by the normalcy of things, he is told of his family. Magical folk with powers beyond the ken of mortal man, etcetera. And suddenly there he is, with this awareness, and years under his belt but who knows exactly how many? Though time is relative, yes? And now here he is in normal life. Only now he knows his father is some great and powerful thing, and he in turn... will likely never truly die."
    A hand uncurls, "So I tell you this, and take it not as a sign of trust. Though I suppose it is in a way since I think you like me." At that he ducks down a little as if trying to get a view sidelong at her.
    "But I think you might well betray me down the line if it comes to your own interests. Yet against your better judgment you like me a little. And that might be enought to stay your hand briefly. Yet I tell you this not out of trust. But out of arrogance, because I feel completely comfortable overcoming most anything. Perhaps that is my youth. Perhaps not."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa tilts her head slightly, watching him. "So long as you bring no evil to this world, then you need not fear my betrayal," she says after a long silence, shaking her head slightly. "There was a time..."

Pausing, she brushes a finger across her brow, considering her words. "There was a time when you would have been right to worry. But I chose my own path. And it no longer requires that I end people whom I may //grow// to admire." The last comes with a faint smile, cautioning lest he grow too proud. "I do hope you find yourself immortal. For now. There are few enough unchanging things in the world."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "What I /do/ spend this coin on, Nyssa." The youth says with a smile, watching hers for a time before his eyes rise to meet her own. "Is an exchange of story for story. Because I find you interesting and would know more."
    That said he leans to the side, causing the table to creak slightly. "And I warn you if you get up now and wander off, just smirking to yourself... well I shall never forgive you. Not that we would be enemies, no. You will just have to be able to shoulder that burden of having disappointed me."
    It's then that he pooches his lower lip out, "And that will make me look like this. Not something you can live with on your conscience."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"Mmm, the sorrow indeed," Nyssa smirks, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "However could I live with myself?" She leans forward long enough to set her glass down, settling back into the corner of the booth in consideration.

"Very well. A story. Once there was a poor girl with no father. Not that she //had// no father. But whoever he was, he wasn't in her life. Her mother, though, told her great, adventurous stories of him. Of what a grand man he was. And so, when she was old enough, she sought him out. She found him. Which," she adds, raising a finger, "Was no mean feat. She had few resources, and he was not an overly bold fool."

"When she found him, she demanded he teach her his ways, for he was a great warrior and wise in the ways of men. Impressed by her boldness, he agreed. For years she fought at his side, learning all she could...until she learned that he was not all he claimed to be. You see, Alexander, even the purest cause can be turned with time. And her father had come to believe more in himself than in the cause he claimed to espouse. And so she left him, and all that he stood for, to have her own life."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The young man follows along, listening to her with that utter regard rapt with attention. He draws his drink closer to himself and takes a sip when she speaks of her father at first, then near the end he offers a nod as well to grant some empathy which grows when his lips part in a near silent 'ah' as she shares that part and... interpretation of her story.
    Then he lifts his chin slightly, brow beetling in the middle as he murmurs, "Then what became of her own life? What did she craft of it after she passed through that gauntlet learning of her father?"
    Another sip of the drink is taken but his eyes do not waver.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"Mmmm. //That// is not a story for children," Nyssa says quietly, in a tone that suggests it's less about him being a child and more about her having an excuse not to share something painful. "But the ending was that she found her own path. One closer to what her father had claimed to follow to begin with. Yet she always watches herself closely, never certain, never...comfortable with the possibility that she too might stray from the path and into the darkness."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A slow blink is given as he watches her, contemplative as his gaze lifts for a time to meet hers. Then steadily, calmly he uncurls a hand towards her resting his upon the table with his palm up, asking for her own. Perhaps it will take a moment for her to consider, yet if she does he'd take her hand and just turn it slowly to consider those old marks. The small facets that had started the tale of her story and created the curiousity at first.
    A brush of his thumb, then his eyes return to hers as he says. "I believe we'll be friends." Perhaps the way he says that is a fortune being told, though there's a touch of sadness there as if knowing that often the fates that befall his friends are not a positive thing.
    "If only because our stories share these small facets."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa considers his hand for a moment, though she eventually takes it, perhaps as much to see what he does as anything else. "Perhaps we will," she agrees quietly, a small smile touching one corner of her lips. "I will warn you though, it's been quite some time since I truly had a friend. I may not be particularly good at it."

Well, at least she's honest. But it seems like she's probably the sort of person who's better to have as a friend than as an enemy.

"Regardless. I think you have a fate ahead of you, Alexander. So I am glad to see that you seem to have been prepared for it."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    If she looked close enough she would see small golden rings in the center of those pale irises that are watching her, calm and controlled but the curiousity there in that faint gleam of those eyes.
    "Hmm," His fingers curl around her hand to give a gentle squeeze before he draws back and gives a nod to her, "Remind me to tell you about Fate." He says with his lip twisting up, as she likely has no idea how those three weavers tend to interfere in his life, "I usually save that story for the third time I meet someone out there in the wide world."
    He eases back into his own corner of the booth opposite her. Those hazel eyes drift to the side toward the door, then back to her. His head cocks to the side, "Are you off soon? Or are you tempted to stay several more hours and talk with me while we steal each other's secrets?"

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"I make no promises about secrets," Nyssa says with a rueful smile. "But I think there is nothing pressing waiting for me at the moment." Reclaiming her hand, she reaches for her empty glass and leans back to gesture to the bar for a refill. "If we're going to continue though, I may need at least one more drink."

As she waits for it, she turns back to him. "So. We have violent and overbearing fathers in common," she says, amused. "I've personally cut mine off. You?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A deep breath is taken and he says gently, "I still love mine, and he's still a big part of my life. But he's..." A hand uncurls as he gestures, "He's trying to be good, for these last three years. He's a construction worker, union chairman. He hasn't gotten in a fight in that time, hasn't caused a ruckus."
    "And, to be fair, I am still..." Alexander bites his lower lip and then murmurs, "I'm still trying to handle my own... difficulties. I've..."
    His lip curls up and he looks away, but then back almost instantly. "I have been spending the last month and some finding the... the worst people I could, and to be fair... some of the best people I could, and asking them about ethics. Morality."
    He touches fingertips to his chest, "Since I was worried I didn't have any... or wouldn't. When worst came to worst."
    "So I think you're further along in things than I am, perhaps."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"Mmmm." Nyssa watches him, speculative. "I can see where that would be...difficult. I was young when I found my father, but old enough to already have my own morality. Old enough to know I could exist without him. I would imagine that growing up with him...Well. I don't actually need to imagine. I have a younger sister to show me." And given her tone, she doesn't think very much of it either.

"And what have you learned from your interviews then?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Ah, well, as to that." He says quickly as his mind changes gears. "I've found that I have them. Morals." Alexander's eyebrows lift as if sharing that was surprising to himself in a way. His head tilts to the other side as he uncurls a hand to her.
    "You see, part of... what makes me who I am. It's because I don't feel fear." His eyebrows lift as he searches for the right words. "It makes relating to people difficult in some ways. It makes loving someone impossible." That causes him a single moment of reflection.
    But then his eyes lift back to her. "I was worried that because of that I would have no... boundaries. Nothing would be too far. But I found out that some things were."