Risque considered the Belgium vampire's intelligent words describing his own relationship and yet in some vague sense she could relate. However, it was intriguing to her that someone would take on a more fragile lover. Yet what was home for the feline was chaos for the mouse. How well Risque knew that. How she was certain it must have proven a challenge for him, as was the understatement that it took ample practice to be gentle. It took far more than just that, for that she was certain. One wrong move, one little slip. She had lost more than just one lover in her bed. How deadly a dance it could be if a vampire was not aware of the own strength at all times, especially with a more fragile lover. Yet it was far more than just that. Perhaps it too, had to do with the partner. How many beings being had she taken to her own bed that she simply not have a care for beside to fit a single need? Several thoughts fluttered across her mind that she did not delve within too deeply, nor did she put much more thought into his selection of mate. Hadn't she chosen an unlikely mate herself? One she allowed more than she had any other. "What is this existence without a little challenge?" The feline queen supplemented and yet it was a loaded statement, one she hardly elaborated as the conversation between the two vampires shifted.

It would appear that Quinton was in no desperate rush to leave. In fact, neither was the she. Once those intentions had been cleared enough that the feline queen deemed satisfactory, it was enough to... clear the air of those stiff political restraints. After all, what harm could come from it when he was within her territory? When he had not stepped out of line? It was far from understatedly rare that the feline queen found herself in the presence who wasn't unbearably abrasive to her. It was a sentiment that might have been reflected in the vampire that sat upon the barstool at her side. However, it was clear that her lover was not quite as convinced with her present choice of company. The mere proximity of an attractive male with his mate was enough to stir her cowboy's infamous jealous tendencies, the wall paying for those all too volatile emotions that warred within him. How certain that one wrong move from Quinn would be enough to stir that violent beast within him and shatter that resolve. Even despite her mate's improved self control than his younger self ever possessed, she refused to take that gamble. With one impossible to argue to look from her, it was enough to send him retreating to the balcony, still giving him a bird's eye view of the pair below. It was for the better. Yet she intentionally allowed him the ability to remain near and observe, even if he could not make out what they were saying. It was the perfect.... Intentional compromise given the situation. Quinn was still a stranger widely unknown to her and should Darcy issue a blatant challenge with someone so old. She hardly intended to gamble with her mate, simply because she enjoyed to watch her lover's nature. How far they had come. Was she, in her own way? Protecting him?

How long he would be able to remain upon the balcony was questionable at best. But she was not quite finished with her conversation with the unique dapper gentleman, much to Darcy's baffled chagrin. It was with all of those trivialities to the side, that she offered Quinn a semblance of hospitality, extending an offer for a drink. Although, she hardly anticipated that the man wished to have tea, at a bar of all things. Perhaps she would have assumed wine for him, much like herself. Yet, even she indulged in the heated beverage every once in a while. With the decision settled, the feline queen made short work of placing that order that baffled her staff that were much too smart to question it.

The conversation shifted to the mention of progeny. How very many opinions she possessed on that particular bitter topic. How many had failed her expectations in this regard? There had been one, once upon a time that may have earned the title but that being was long gone. Never again had she found a being worth imparting her own wisdom and ideals to, beyond her own mate. The decorous vampire seemed to agree with the sentiment she had offered him of the worsening human condition only solidifying that he possessed a rare intellect. The Belgium vampire's gaze strayed as if in search of an exception to the rule within the bar in which she was already doubtful of. He expanded, blaming modernity and all its limiting facets. In that, she could entirely agree. They were becoming a pitiful, helpless species. Risque dipped her chin in a refined nod. As if to prove that very point, at that exact moment, one of those women fell over in her obvious state of classless inebriation before her group of friends erupted into a fit of hysterical shrill laughter and glee. "I often wonder if they are actually devolving as a species." She supplemented, none too quietly to Quinn as she too eyed that display with a clear disdain and judgement, much like the look upon her feline that sat at her side's face that mirrored her own.

The pair's attention once more fell upon each other as he touched upon his own progeny, a notion that intrigued Risque. Perhaps that was the only way to salvage potential with this rapidly declining race she considered. The only positive notion of that modern world to which she thrived in, was that fools were so easily parted with their money and how Darcy and the she-devil herself benefited momentously from it! Yet even procuring a child at a young age, there was still no guarantee. That and she and children did not mix.

Family did not prove to be fruitful either. Blood, as it turned out to be for Risque was not thicker than water. Progeny was serving to be no better. The soft-spoken vampire then further elaborated that his wife had wanted a child, a thing that he could not provide her with naturally. Such a thing that Darcy and herself had no desire for. Those needy urchin spawn that smelled like urine and filled with shrill, demanding screams were not agreeable to either of them. Such a thought brought a potent sense of distaste to her and the thought of her own mates likewise disapproval of the subject caused her gaze to find his for a moment. It was Quinn's question drew her gaze to him once more as something akin to caustic amusement bloomed within her momentarily and yet did not quite meet her face.

Did she have any progeny that turned out to be fruitful? Yet even despite the apathy upon her feminine features, a scoff escaped her regardless. "Non, I have attempted and been severely disappointed. Infuriating really, to have all else one might desire and yet this evades me. I have no interest in children, neither does my mate. I despise those needy little parasites despite understanding they are a necessity to human survival." Such a definitive statement and yet her words were truthful, to the point even despite her accented words sounded smooth as silk even if void of any emotion upon that topic besides general disdain.

The conversation naturally shifted once more to the topic of her mother tongue, one that her current company seemed to excel at. Quinn's agreement did not surprise the vampiric queen in the slightest, there were few to contest the beauty of the French language. A light, masculine chuckle and yet still deceptively soft rang from the Belgian vampire. English was a far cruder language than most and yet how she felt that with most languages. Especially.... German. Even though she knew how to speak it because of her maker, it only existed within her mind, simply because it refused to be forgotten.

Any more thoughts on the matter were soon interrupted by the entity that was uniquely Leon. He brought the tray of treats and tea perfectly presented. The tray didn't even so much as rattle. He would have made a terribly good servant if he was not so terrible at decorum. In fact, his current mood was far too emboldened for such a task. Even to her own liking at times. Especially as he viewed her guest with a clear look of desire. Where was his tact? Surely Quinn was used to such looks if he frequented bars and yet how well she knew how it could make most men uncomfortable. Violent even. However, Quinn seemed almost oblivious to it... if not baffled by him even though he said not even a single word to him. Darcy was not thrilled with his existence either. Leon soon retreated to say a few words to Lorelai as Quinton uttered a parting comment of Leon being a 'little' flamboyant. A little? The comment nearly caused the vampire woman's rouge stained lips to twitch as if in some unspoken humour.

"Oui. But he is an artiste, even if he does not look it. Perhaps in part that is why I can forgive his.... Eccentric behaviour at times. He is the only one here who can make a decent cup of tea an eye for fashion." So she supposed he still had some use to her. Risque, over the years possessed more than one gay man her veritable entourage. She wasn't entirely sure why she preferred to keep at least one. Yet, tonight Leon overstepped, the only fortunate thing for him was that the present elder company seemed to be oblivious to it and Risque found herself in a rather tolerant and rare good mood.

Risque returned the focus to tea and delicate pastries placed artfully upon the plate, nothing was out of place. Very few beings even knew of the woman's occasional taste for such things. It had been, admittedly a while since she had last indulged. Such things were usually done within the privacy of her office and not so publicly. Yet people's stares hardly bothered the woman. She was used to it all. How easy it was to ignore them all the same, even now, as the pair acted as though they could have been in any secluded little café in the streets of Paris. Not a booming nightclub.

She drew one of those petite eclairs to her lips, allowing her teeth to sink into it satisfying as the flavours bloomed upon her tongue. It was as good as she remembered it and not too sweet which is what she preferred. After the tea concluded steeping within their own fine china teapots that matched the teacups that were clearly influenced by her own style. Everything in this place was after all. Why would she allow it to stop at the fine china? Although, Quinn's next question was not on such stylistic choices, but rather returned to the mention of her lover.

Such a topic she had considered at great length and how it shifted vastly over the decades.... Yet how interest seemed to flash within the golden intelligent eyes of the Belgian vampire as she spoke a single opinion. His reply in return was simple. 'How fascinating.' Was all the other vampire betrayed. If he had an opinion or a thought, he did not share before the feline at her side lowered to brush against her exposed leg, always touching, as if it somehow took comfort in his master's touch. A far more obedient pet than her Tetradore and yet not nearly so strong. That was forever the problem, wasn't it?

Just as elegantly as always, even as she poured the steaming tea into her cup, over top a singular cube of sugar that melted into the hot tea. Her movements were sinuous, halting her so suddenly in the face of that question, so softly uttered for something so... provoking. How she did not expect such a term to come from a being so... aged. Did she believe in soulmates? She finished her pour when she placed it back upon the tray. Those deceptively calm golden eyes met her own at the same moment. Surely he was not being serious? Yet, his face hardly indicated any hint of a joke.

"I cannot tell if you are joking." Was her instinctive, too quick response. Yet, in truth she had never considered such a thing. Nor did she expect it from the ancient vampire. Soulmates, such a wildly childish whimsical notion, surely. "That is like asking me if I believe in the tooth fairy. Non, of course not." What a funny question.. and yet what did that term even mean?

She savoured the hot beverage upon her tongue, hotter than blood and yet so refreshingly light in comparison despite it doing nothing to quench the impossible thirst. Even as she brought the steaming cup of tea to her lips. Savouring in its warmth, she quickly brushed over the topic even though it still very much lingered in her mind.

It was then that she inquired her own question, purposefully steering that conversation away. It was rare that she met anyone married for such a prolonged period of time... let alone... seemingly faithful and devoted to his family. Happy. His reply was teasing. So very beings would seek to tease her. Surely the topic of sex was not nearly so taboo as it had been.

"Oui, why not? We are both too old to be offended by something that is only natural. Or is it that I wanted to test your tolerance for candidness." She mused out loud as she drew the cup of tea to her lips. Savouring in the warmth.

"Besides, isn't it not a function that is natural like feeding is to a vampire? Like breath is to a mortal?" She added, although there was a barest hint of amusement within her tone.

Yet her own question why he chose to marry and yet such a question seemed far more complex. His deceptively soft voice did not waver as he spoke, cutting through the din of the club. That he chose his wife and did not regret it. She could say the same. She chose Darcy and had not regretted her choice as mate either, with the matters of love aside.

It was understanding why marriage seemed to be so important was something in which the she-devil could not grasp. Yet she could understand that desire to not wish to be alone, to share the drawn out existence with. Was that what she was doing with Darcy? That acceptance of becoming mates was hardly biological and yet something deeper. She caught the warm smile that touched his lips. A rare, true contentment of a man fulfilled. "That was quite eloquently put and yet I find it entirely fascinating. You must be a writer." She deduced before pausing briefly. " I wish to know, is the mating bond the same with your wife as it is with the vampire species?" Would marriage change the bond of mates? Enhance it? See it crumble? How she never considered these questions before. Curious thoughts that they were. Yet he added that final remark about the sex being just as satisfying.

"Ah, it is with its benefits, I am sure. But difficult with appetites like that of my mate and I..." She rose her elegant hand and gestured confidently toward to mate whom she knew to be watching intently from is new perch. How she found with the bond that the sex surprisingly was better. Yet... she paused once more, her eyes narrowed, trained upon her tea cup.

Soulmates, what was the true definition of it? "Yet, even though you speak logic with a hint of poetics, why did you mention soulmates earlier? Truthfully, I have never considered it. Do you believe in it, Quinton? Is that what you believe your Leila is? Or perhaps it would be better if you defined it for me." She did not speak in this lover's language for the poets. Her love was a far more primal thing. Of all the languages she had known, and as elegantly as she spoke... these particular emotions and phrases illuded the she-devil. Yet what was far more baffling was why was she speaking about this with him? A veritable stranger who seemed to grasp it far better than she ever could.