721/Social function time!

Social function time!
Date of Scene:	23 March 2020
Location:	Ritz Carlton's Ball Room
Synopsis:	A meeting of different worlds. A talk of the past and finding an understanding.
Cast of Characters:	Alexander Aaron, Karla Sofen

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Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The Ritz Carlton's Ball Room is reserved throughout the year. Reservations are made three years in advance with the calendar full and only very rarely empty. Cancellations are few and far in between, and perhaps the fastest way for a family amongst the upper crust of society to be ostracized. And so for those that frequent such events it is almost a culture entirely unto itself. Positions are jockeyed for. Fortunes are made and lost. Negotiations are had that decide the course of lives for decades to come. It is a great tumult in the lives for many of the people who go to them.
    And yet... why is it all so banal?
    Such are the thoughts that drift through the mind of the young man known as Alexander Aaron. Standing there, surrounded by 'peers', looking out upon the rather active dance floor where a slow waltz is being played. The string quartet is beautiful and vibrant in its playing, giving a lovely rendition of the classics so sought for during such an occasion. The excuse for this one being the presentation of a new family wanting to make a splash in the crowd.
    Ostensibly there is to be a charity of some sort. But that all just blurs together. If one asked the people here what charity it was for a good half of them would have no idea. But ask them who at the Autumn festivities of five years ago had a wardrobe malfunction albeit a brief one, then you would have all of the correct answers.
    "So how /is/ your father, Mr. Aaron? I haven't seen him on the scene." An elderly dowager asks the young blond man, her and her biddys surrounding the youth as he seems to be trapped, stuck having to maintain calmness and civility... for he was there on his father's behalf.
    "Quite good, Mrs. Hatham. I'll send him your regards."
    "Oh do, my boy, do."
    Another woman of similar social stature, "Has he given up that silly hobby of his?"
    "Ma'am?"
    "The union work? Isn't that foolish in this day and age?"
    "I wouldn't know ma'am."

Karla Sofen has posed:
Dr. Sofen.

That's who she is now, back to her normal life when in the past she had achieved so much. At least for her standards. But invitations were sent to her to this 'small' gathering. One of her various patients. A particularly rich one who she kept on just that border of being fully healed from trauma. He was always so happy after each session though. And so was she, it paid a few bills.

But tonight it would be for socializing time for the californian blonde, the matters of the office left behind, along with Moonstone's. Or at least so she thought.

She made her way towards the ball room, chin slightly lifted, the tall, proud stance, the click of expensive heels carrying her, sleeveless black dress flowing about her form, a cut to one side. The banality though, it is indeed a palpable thing, one she comes close to regretting almost immediately when she is approached by a man. "Hello, Miss. Came alone to the venue? Would you like some company?"

A glance. "Very observant. But I am fine." she brushes past, deep blue eyes studying the various people gathered.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    It is all a kingdom without a claimant, this social landscape before her. A tableau of such potential and yet such horrible annoyance with the foolishness of its denizens. Not a warrior among them, nothing with fangs. At most just old toothless lions long past their prime.
    Even the children of the ruling class seem just like so much detritus. With the way they gather and flirt and wander the crowd. There are some men there that if their lives hadn't been so cushioned by money they might have grown into something with ambition beyond the board room. But other than that... naught.
    But then a voice might well reach her. Firm, deep, but with a lilt to it that's an undercurrent of derision or disdain. That others might not well pick up on though she may well have heard it in her inner monologue at times.
    "No, Mrs. Bortree. I'll be attending Empire State in the coming year."
    The sound of hens clucking, whispering, cackling gleefully.
    "I'm sure your granddaughter is very lovely, but I have much more to do in my life beyond thinking of marriage for now. If you'll excuse me."
    And then he turns, the tuxedo so perfectly tailored to him. Hugging the lines and contours of his athletic silhouette. Taller than she may well remember, broader of shoulders with a man's easy going smile. That hair still just as blond and brushed back from his eyes.
    The youth from those years ago during the Battle of New York.

Karla Sofen has posed:
Oh, Karla certainly has no qualms about attempting to rule over such prey, in fact so many of her patients come out of such stock. The decrepit that pay so much for a final hope in life, as if she would have the miracle that will make their lives have a meaning again. Instead of seizing for themselves they ask for help, their mistake. A click of her tongue while she surveys what may just turn into quite the uneventful spectacle.

Maybe she should had brought along a boy toy so she wouldn't get those approaches. Really, they could had waited for her to at least find a seat.

Steps again, leading her further towards the bar. She is just going past the group where Alexander is, unmistakable blue eyes set on him while they meet gazes, and locking there. Not that she stops. Not the type of woman to stop for anything. Instead one hand goes up to brush through her lush, blonde hair. An invitation of some sorts?

And then she is gone. Not that she is too far though. The bar not far ahead.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Recognition? It was possible. There in those hazel eyes. It was definitely him, however. There is no mistaking those features, those lips that can easily turn from the cruel to the angelic, and the blue jade irises that hold her gaze for a time. Eyes linger, then he turns.
    A quiet word is given to the older woman who had been seeking his attention and she is handed off to an older man who was passing by. Karla has time enough now, enough of a lead as he must observe the social mores to turn his charge over to another man.
    And then he walks through the crowd, around greetings and smiles and well-wishes given. He navigates that sea of humanity with the aplomb his ancestors navigated the Mediterranean. So casual and calm.
    Then his shadow drifts across the bar, around to the side to her left. His voice again, "Champagne, two glasses." Given to tThe bartender followed with, "Please leave the bottle."
    The bartender nods and murmurs, "Yes, sir."
    The bottle is opened with that /pop/ and it is poured expertly into those two flutes before it's set before them. He moves off to the other end of the bar, leaving them there.
    "You haven't changed at all." He murmurs.

Karla Sofen has posed:
The former 'hero' comes close to the bar, her small purse placed on the counter before she turns to inspect the comings and goings. Yes, she very well remembered. Memories of those times were still quite vivid. Part of a past she clinged to even if it had marked her own downfall. But nothing she could do about that anymore. A vapid smile is given to a couple that passes her but then she is lost in her own thoughts.

Lost enough that the drifting shadow isn't immediately acknowledged, yet the call for champagne has her glancing up. "And what are we celebrating?" she questions. Even it there is no refusal, she taking one of the flutes between elegant fingertips, her poise elegant, the chin ever-lifted.

"We all change, one way or another." But in her tone there is an admission that she is indeed the one he remembered. "But this is quite a different setting from last time." an half-smirk coming to her lips. Yes, quite different.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Not so different in some ways," Alexander replies, turning back to lean against the bar with her beside him. Both of them looking at the comings and goings of mankind in this particular form. He takes a sip of the champagne, apparently deciding there is to be no toast, not yet at least.
    "Still a wreckage of humanity. Still people scrambling on ruins." His lip twists up a little, "Though now..." He crosses his arms over his chest, the glass held light in one hand. "I'm afraid I'm much more civilized than when we first met."
    For a time he lets that linger with nothing further said. Until he tells her, "I find myself pleased to see you again, Ms. Sofen." A beat, "Though I am not sure why. Perhaps you can tell me why that is."

Karla Sofen has posed:
Her champagne flute gets gently stirred between her fingertips while Karla takes her time to look over Alexander, studying, the way the boy seems indeed more civilized, ponderous. She knew it had to eventually come. If one wanted to survive in this world there were norms that had to be followed. At least on the surface. A moment later she finally tips her head back, a drink off the champagne. "I will consider that it is not my professional opinion you are seeking, or else you would had called me Dr. Sofen." the corner of her lips turning up in a faint smile, dimpling her cheek.

"But very well, I can tell you why. Because in this life of banality, of scramblers and looters there are those who refuse to follow what society tells them they should be. They take what should be theirs and care not for the layers of bullshit that exist. It is what pleases you. That someone can see what you see."

Another drink from her champagne. High quality, she certainly approves.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Those hazel eyes widen a touch as he is given a small piece of the puzzle that is Karla Sofen. "Doctor." He says as if such was new to him, for indeed it was. "Doctor Sofen." He repeats and nods, likely committing that to memory even as he takes another drink of his champagne. Enough that he feels he could use a bit more from the bottle. So he tilts the bottle on its side, letting it gurgle a touch as it foams into his glass, then he offers her some more should she so wish, merely inclining an eyebrow in the asking.
    Then it's back to their discussion, "I am glad you survived." He offers, as if that was a checkbox to be ticked. "I am glad you continue as you were." Another checkbox.
    "You do remind me of a part of myself. Perhaps it's just narcissism with a different face. Being pleased to see your point of view shared as reinforcement to it."

Karla Sofen has posed:
When the bottle is offered Karla dips her head in acceptance of a refill, approaching the glass flute. She watches him then. "Is that surprising to you?" she asks about the doctor part, one arm wrapping across her waist while the other is turned up with her champagne, she sipping off it occasionally. "I survived, that much is true." but her brows do furrow, thoughtful, perhaps not exactly sure about something. A part of her certainly died.

"But now I ask you, why do you believe I'd be pleased to see you again, Phobos?" she using the name she knows him by.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "No, I could see you were brilliant when your eyes weren't filled with homicidal glee." The way he says that, as if that was normal and not an out of the ordinary thing, but what's more is with him there's no malice there either. As if he didn't care at all that she had taken lives. For in truth, he does not.
    The glass flute is held and he considers it for a moment before quirking an eyebrow as he looks back up at her, "But here it's Alexander, please. Dr. Sofen." He asks her that much at the least, but then he looks away.
    "As for the why you'd be pleased to see me?" His lip twists, not looking at her in that moment, though amused about something. "Most likely hubris, I'd say. Arrogance in that I am so staggeringly special that I must be the highlight of everyone's life no matter how brief the encounter."
    Then he tilts his head back to her, smirking crookedly with the devil's own smile. "I'd rethink that opinion though if I wasn't proven right so damn often."

Karla Sofen has posed:
"It does take one to know one. As I am sure you are aware." Karla replies about the homicidal glee, a brief lift of her shoulders given, as if that didn't really matter overmuch. A smile though. "Already adapting to those layers I see." a lilting chuckle escaping her lips. An odd thing though, lilting, when previous memories were of her being all but like that. Harsh and destructive. But she seems to have her own set of layers.

"I thought narcissism was more your area, Alexander. Though, do you resent my hubris?" she rests one elbow back on the counter, now setting the glass down, blue eyes intent on Alexander, again continuing their study.

"Because I feel it was an highlight, was it not?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Oh no, without it I wouldn't be able to get through the day." Hubris that is. But he settles upon the booth seat there, just one leg and hip so he can be turned to face her. Definitely taller, and those features are fuller. And the subtle contours of his jacket and the lines of his muscular neck a touch more defined. But she can see the youth there hidden behind the years.
    "But yes, it was lovely to combine the memories of the battle with a small rivalry shared between us." Though she may not agree with that designation.
    He looks out across the crowd, just in time to catch the approach of two young women. Classically beautiful, but modern in their sensibilities and about Alexander's age. They smile to him. "Alex, heya. Haven't seen you at the club lately." Says one.
    "Heather, hello. And Monica. A pleasure, may I introduce to you Dr. Sofen?"

Karla Sofen has posed:
Karla seems somewhat different now that she isn't in that 'hero' outfit, more relaxed from the warrior woman that had been slaying through the battlefield those couple of years ago, still full of that sharpness to her eyes and gait but now more angled and adapted to these social battles than exactly killing. Even if to many they were very much the same thing. "It is an important thing." she agrees. "False modesty is so boring." Yes, doesn't seem like it's something she has a lot of. Or any even.

"It makes me wonder how stronger you are after all this time." even as she takes note on the stronger aspect of the young man. The changes from the one she had seen in the past. By her tone it does seem she still recalls the challenge of sorts that was tossed.

Though her attention is then captured by the approaching women. She watches the two of them, appraising each in turn, a study to their posture, a scrutiny. Eventually her smile crops up. "Please, Karla will do." she says, a mask of polite tolerance on her expression. One hand reaching to shake their hands. "How do you do?" she then asks.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Oh is she your doctor?" Monica says with a smile as she accepts Karla's hand, giving a dainty shake and accompanied by a nod. Heather follows suit and even curtsies a little cutely.
    "No, I'm afraid we're primarily acquaintances. We met during the battle of New York."
    The two girls gasp faintly, eyes flitting back and forth as they ponder the two of them, "Oh that must have been horrible. So good you both could help the other get through such a turmoil."
    At which Alexander tilts his head a little eying Karla askance and offers, "I wouldn't say we helped each other a lot. More we... survived in the same area."
    "Oh I see," Offers Monica, though Heather for her part seems confused.
    "If you'll excuse us please, girls. Dr. Sofen and I have much to discuss." And with that Alexander takes the bottle from the bar and starts to walk away, pausing long enough to hold his hand out to Karla should she wish to take it and walk with him.
    Though she can likely read the unspoken message there, a respectful and polite decline of whatever the young women of the social scene were selling.

Karla Sofen has posed:
Karla is all manners when she greets the two girls, small dimples showing on her cheeks when her smile becomes more pronounced even if her eyes don't exactly convey the same her lips do. Flatter. "The world changed much after that." she says in ways of agreement. "Even if not enough in some ways." whatever she means with that!

Yet it's not as if she has time to explain further, or to give answer to other questions. She picks up her own purse from the counter, tucking it under the arm holding the glass flute. The other takes Alexander's hand, firm, and she begins to walk away with him, dress swishing about her form. "You are quite successful with the young hens, Alexander." amusement there. "Did they not catch your eye?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Moving together cross the ballroom, each of them masters of the looking ahead while conversing and greeting others they pass with that utterly vacuous way one reserves for such occasions, he tells her sidelong. "They're nice enough. Fine. Gentle. Safe."
    A nod is given to the Mayor of the city as they walk by though he does not pause not attempt to slip into that conversational circle. Instead he heads towards the balcony doors next to where the string quartet plays in their gentle muted tones. "Due, perhaps to my upbringing, I find I can't be intrigued with someone unless there's an element of danger to it."
    Pausing by the door and opening it for her, it's then that his hazel eyes meet hers and he smiles, "Do you know anyone here who could meet that criteria?"

Karla Sofen has posed:
It is indeed a vacuum of emotion, in that way only these social gatherings can be. Void of meaning but so necessary to make the world go around. It is a curious thing to her, it has always been. All these masks, but none that know what true power feels like, not like she has felt before. To the exception perhaps to Alexander. Yet this is also why Karla is here with him now instead of back by the bar. "Fine. Gentle. Safe." she echoes each of those words almost as if they were almost an affront. How she hated those.

She offers a smile to the Mayor though, she recognizes him, a meeting of gazes and a dip of her head. She may not exactly enjoy these, but she has her charm. "I am flattered that you'd consider me dangerous, Alexander." yet indeed it does seem like something which flatters her. Bit of an ego to her perhaps. But then again, everyone interesting in life has one.

She rests her deep blue eyes on the man's a moment. A second, just before she steps out, taking a sip out of her glass flute.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Following after into the quiet of the balcony. A few couple are out there, but clearly not wishing to be disturbed as they each have their own variation of this conversation. Though likely hidden behind other sentiments, other platitudes. A waiter is in attendance. Nearby, but not disposed to interfere nor even be looking in the direction of the others, perfectly white cloth draped over his arm as he stands ready.
    But none of the others gain any attention as he walks to the railing. The sound of traffic can still be heard this high up. The lights of the city giving the tableau a vibrance. He turns back to her and takes a sip of his champagne, offering her some more for her glass from the bottle.
    "No you're not." He says to her, but his smile is there, perhaps stealing some of the sting of the refutation. "Not flattered. Perhaps pleased."

Karla Sofen has posed:
The doctor walks alongside Alexander in that confident step of hers, that proud back certainly not having changed with the years. Still, there are subtle differences, even if the setting is very different too. Perhaps in her fears, the tendrils not exactly the same as in the past. As if -those- fears may had come to pass in some measure. These new ones though? Not exactly that discernible as of yet.

She turns then, one hip resting against the side of the balcony, the wind making her long mane of hair flutter about. Her lips quirk up briefly in a smirk at Alexander. The semblance of politeness is still there but those eyes tell a different story. As if she still recalled the battle. Memories of something she still holds on to. But then again, who wouldn't hold on to such glorious battle?

She accepts the champagne, another sip. "It is a good difference. But yes. Pleased, more like it. You were right before, I do enjoy leaving an impression. And the same is true with you." she murmurs. "You'd hate to just be another footnote in this world, wouldn't you?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Such curious words, and if anything she knows how to turn ones' thoughts inwards with just a few of them. She brings herself in line with him as a peer, and then offers this point of view. And she can see him give them their due measure of consideration. Turning a little to look out over the edge of the railing, he smiles at the distance so far down to the ground...
    Before looking back at her from the corner of one eye. "Somewhat. I enjoy security in position. I don't need glory. Respect from peers is one thing. But..." He looks out across the way, "I don't care for the legacy of the world. Fame."
    His eyes shift back out to consider the city beyond, "I'll be content to exist well and hold rein over my sphere of influence. Beyond that..." He lifts his glass almost dismissively then drinks.

Karla Sofen has posed:
Well, she did spend years learning her craft, honing it after with all those groups she hanged with. And if anything Karla knows how to read others, even if she may have a few wrong ones from time to time. Not that she will ever admit so. Ego, remember? "Respect. That's another one of those safe words." she muses in consideration of what Alexander says, her lips jerking to the side while she ponders, "How do you believe you will achieve that respect though?" she asks. "In your .., business.., respect and fame often go hand to hand, don't they?" she would say her business too, but she doesn't go as far as to consider herself some kind of hero. Nope.

A pause as she tucks some hair behind her ear, bringing some semblance of order to that mane. "It is one large fall, isn't it?" she drinks as well from her glass, though those eyes stay fully on Alexander now, studying.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Her thoughts are enough to cause his eyebrows to lift, and he turns back toward her. "I feel I have it from those who have met me," Again that slightly reflective gaze lifts upwards, "But I will consider how matters are in perhaps five years, more? Then decide on a course of action then. For now..." His nose crinkles a little distastefully, "I have other obligations."
    That said he then meets her gaze, leaning a little closer so that they're elbows as they recline lightly touch, but he holds her gaze. "I'm curious about you, however, Karla." Her first name offered to shift the focus, a verbal line break to break trains of thought and bring her to attention.
    "About your fall and what has changed you." For he can perceive that subtle difference, perhaps hidden behind that intensity.

Karla Sofen has posed:
"Obligations?" A faint trace of amusement to those blue eyes of hers, them reflecting the lights about them. "Somewhow I had this idea you were not the type to care much about those. But .., we all do what we have to do in order to survive, don't we?" she certainly did. "Sometimes respect can only be taken by force. Have you ever done so? Because yes, fear can be a sort of respect." as if she was going through thoughts now while examining Alexander. Not that it seems as if she is doing her doctor routine. The good ones never seem to be doing such. Though she is curious.

The change to a first name does indeed make her focus, watching. "I am still standing though." though it's a weak enough deflection. "What makes you curious about it?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Mainly," Alexander says as he remains there, that small touch of contact being left alone as he turns his gaze away. "To stop you from advancing too far in analyzing me. Turn your thoughts to yourself, get you to speak about your favorite topic." Herself.
    A slight twitch of a smile lights his features up and for a moment he looks more his age than that oh so smug Olympian he often comes across as.
    But then his eyes lift as he murmurs, "Though I don't think I've had to force anyone to respect me..." His consideration drifts as the wind picks up subtly, causing his hair to feather across his features and spurs him to lift a hand to push it from his eyes. "But then I haven't been on this path for long."

Karla Sofen has posed:
"I do enjoy talking about myself." Karla doesn't make that a secret at all..., to anyone.., "But wouldn't that be giving you too much power?" then she cants her head to the side and lets out a laugh. "Ah, very well. Making me admit that I actually respect you enough to not want to reveal too much about me." losing that little verbal spar doesn't seem to affect her much though, perhaps thrilled that someone can actually challenge her from time to time. For how long? That would still have to be seen.

The woman doesn't flee from that touch, arm to arm, one that seems to take physical contact as something just natural. "You will have to one day." that much she is certain about. "And you have given it thought, haven't you? What it means being who you are..."

A pause, a faint smile. Then an offer. "What happened was what I feared would happen all along. There is always someone stronger."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Always boundaries we have to endure," Alexander says as his voice lowers thoughtfully, those pale eyes distancing as he considers her askance, then looks up to what the light pollution of the city allows them to see of the night sky. Rather little to be fair, save the dark. A breath is taken as he turns to look at her, "Someone stronger that makes us bide our time."
    His nose twitches a little, just a brief thing as if he smelled something or didn't care for something as he murmurs, "Though I hate waiting." His head turns to the side, meeting her gaze evenly as his nostrils flare slightly.
    "And I think we both like to push boundaries." As he says that quietly, just a soft rasp of sound as he leans closer ever so slightly. Just enough she can feel his breath against her lips, the tip of his nose so very close. Can see the way those eyes lower, then rise beneath the hood of his eyelids to meet her gaze, the subtle gleam of silver fire deep in those irises.

Karla Sofen has posed:
"Yes." It's a very simple reply, not one that she often gives. But Karla seems pleased at the way Alexander seems to understand. Biding her time. As if he was doing that same thing. Something he confirms right after. Her smile is more open now, a danger there in the flash of her eyes, in how much they reveal to one another. Something that is attracting to her though in more manners than one.

"It is what we are meant to do. Push, take, conquer." those last three words as if she was speaking them in contrast to the three softer ones she had disdained while they were still inside the gala. The approach is noticeable enough to her, expected? Maybe so. She meets him halfway, her own unquenched fury visible in that gaze of hers just as lips touch. She reaches with one hand, taking hold of one of Alexander's forearm to keep him close, savoring his lips there under that balcony, the rest of that gala forgotten.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    There is no urgency in the movement, no wildness. It is a controlled fire, two armies clashing upon a controlled battlefield. Eyelids closed, head turned just enough, lips finding lips and then moving softly together. Soft sounds shared, as he covers her hand with his. It is just a lovely warmth of joining that can easily subsume their awareness, leaving everything to be about the senses.
    They are both so warm, and she can taste his scent, that tang of effort, the subtle flash of ozone where she finds his flesh, the copper of blood? The sensations linger, drawn out as they indulge in that deceptive privacy upon the balcony, the wind brushing against them though the chill ignored.
    Fingers interlace, the pad of his thumb brushes her wrist in a slow intimate rhythm before the kiss breaks with the softest of sounds. His brow against hers, "You were majestic in your rage." He tells her, the first open compliment given, as if allowing her that inroad to him. That admission of admiration.

Karla Sofen has posed:
As if it all had been a simple positioning of troops until this moment, baiting and gauging one another, attempts at outmaneuvering that simply led to have them meet head-on in the end. Karla takes a step forward, a slow crescendo on the intensity of that kiss, she taking note of those scents, sensitive, drawn to that blood. Like sharks always do. Yet she is also in no rush, controlled, they are in their domains, without nothing to come between them right there and then.

And she can breathe again once the kiss breaks, a meeting of souls that have found some measure of balance, brow on brow. "Your fire was a commanding roar." even if she usually isn't prone to such praises. Or well, at least when they don't favor her. But there was no point denying this. They were powerful, warriors, and they both knew it.

She stays close now, feeling the brush of that thumb, her fingertips squeezing back, her breath warm and soft, the proximity allowing a very faint, lingering scent of perfume to be noticeable on her. A rather light fragrance.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The night is so blissully quiet, leaving them the time to savor. To indulge. All just shared. Behind her a distant helicopter wends its way to one of the tall buildings of the skyline. Behind him the water of the river, the distant ocean and its roiling waves.
    A slow exhale, a slow breath that he takes to hold onto the moment an instant longer. His lips twist into a smile as his eyes remain hooded, almost like some lazy feline content with what it had just tasted. He lifts his head slightly, nose brushing hers. Another breath shared, then his lips part as he murmurs, "Come away with me." No lilt to the end of those words, not a question. Yet not a command. A declaration most likely, expressing that desire as he pauses that small stroke of his thumb against her wrist, feeling the steady thrum of their shared heartbeats there.
    The moment drifts before he adds quietly, that small smile flirting with the corners of his mouths, "Tomorrow we can go back to being rivals."

Karla Sofen has posed:
A truce, as if they could have those. An interesting prospect. Karla could allow this.., in fact she was finding that in this new life of hers she could allow more. To try differently. Not change, of course, she considers herself too damn perfect, but to at least consider a meeting of equals without the constraints of trying to outmaneuver one another. Or perhaps it would be a completely different game, who knows? Still, she seemed willing to try. To plunge herself in so to speak.

Another glance is given to the long fall near them, gaze then trailing up to the night, allowing her hair to flow free in a manner she rarely allows. It's a steady beat the one that is found on her wrist, slightly paced perhaps, a low burn. "What are we waiting for...?" is her reply. She does wonder what path he will choose though.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Still with fingers entwined, Alexander looks in her eyes and sees that small and oh so brief war waged behind those blue irises. With that said he pushes away from that railing, drawing her with him as they make their way back into that ballroom. And then from there the world beyond.