Quinn

Risque held nothing back in her description of her, thus far, disappointing progeny. The vampiric woman's scoff echoed softly within that space they shared and yet- Quinn found himself entirely content to believe her barbed words. Progeny were largely disappointing in every way. The human condition had worsened distinctly since his own day. There were few worthy of making that transition into immortal life and often- those who did- so tended to prove themselves a waste of blood later on. It was almost disheartening. Their once proud species reduced to an ever lessening few who truly embodied what it was to be vampire. There were few left, Quinn suspected, who were like himself. Who were like Risque. The French woman was a near perfect example of the female of the species. As they once had been within their prime. Hmm, perhaps he truly had become old fashioned and yet he could hardly bring himself to find satisfaction in the modern vampire of the day. Another conversation for later perhaps. Risque, after all, was the sort of woman whose company he was inclined to keep. Her view of children, it seemed, was equally poor and yet the man could hardly fault her for that. Infants were a task indeed. One he himself might surely have forgone were it not for his wifes desires. Yet- Morgan had given them much in their lives in turn. Her existence was not one he would wish away. Such thoughts turned with light consideration within his mind as that conversation shifted to the manner of the French language. One it seemed both vampires were inclined to agree was a vastly super language. Its sounds, its words, its very flair were unique and wholly masterful. Risque's appreciation for that native tongue prompted a simper to his lips once more in clear satisfaction with her thoughts and continued company. How readily he might have sought to speak upon the topic further-were they not interrupted.

The individual who brought that tray of tea and pastries was a distinctly...flamboyant man. It had become almost rare for the vampiric Belgian to find himself the subject of flirtation. The wedding ring upon his finger so often acted as a deterrent- and for those inclined to ignore it they were so often put out by his age. As if they feared their advances might be met with violence were his temper to take a momentary turn. After all,there were few upon this earth inclined to incite his displeasure-even if such a thing was distinctly difficult. Quinn, after all, was inclined to an evenness of temperament. A rarity amongst his kind in every sense. Leon's efforts at that near bold flirtation were met with a near baffled look. The man's words' inclined to coax a frown to Quinn's features. He would ask Morgan of this 'slang' later. The vampire, for now, merely inclined to querywhy a woman such as Risque kept a being so very....loose within her service. The woman's lips quirked upward as if in a passing fancy before she admitted that his Leon was an artiste- even if he did not appear it. The man apparently possessed an eye for fashion as well as tea. Hmmm. The good ones were so often prone to being eccentrics.The vampire was, seemingly, satisfied with that response. His golden gaze, momentarily, shifted to follow Leon across that room once more before that conversation shifted to that of Risque's mate. 'Darcy' was vastly more of an anomaly than Leon. Risque too, seemed to appreciate her mates unique position- and perhaps her own by default. The vampiric world claimed Ravagers were untameable. Difficult to manage even by their own Makers- though more often than not a Ravage Maker had no ability to command Ravager offspring save for to encourage them to relish in uncontrollable maddened violence.

Darcy, however, was not merely tame-no. The man possessed control. Beyond what his species was believed to be capable of. Yet how inclined Quinn was to believe that such 'control' was hardly by the man's own making. No. Risque had surely played a hand in this. A firm one at that. The woman clearly possessed a talent beyond most for working with...difficult creatures. How little was inclined to intrigue Quinton anymore. He had seen nearly all the world had to offer, after all. Yet this-was something unseen. Just how Risque had....trained her mate remained to be seen. Her methods were so surely worth studying. Yet- it was hardly that alone which tugged at the vampire's mind as he bit softly into an eclair. That rich, chocolate taste was offset by the softness of bread and cream. Risque understood pastry well and yet he was so hardly surprised. Her verydemenour spoke of class and breeding both. Yet so too did it speak of.....love. For her Ravager. A concept that prompted a faint simper to the Belgian's lips the more he considered it. For all Risque knew, for all she understood- how certain he was that there was but one thing that eluded her grasp like wisps of smoke in the air. It was that very query of her belief in soulmates, perhaps, that would tell him all he desired to know.

Her reaction was near instantaneous though deceptively subtle as she poured her tea and raised it to her lips with careful thought. Their gazes met across those tea cups for the barest of moments before the woman insisted she was uncertain if he jested. Quinn's head shook softly.

"I am ill inclined to jest."

He offered softly, his demeanor calm as always as she insisted such a question was akin to asking if she believed in the tooth fairy. Of course not. A faint simer tugged at his lips once more. His own words, free of any mirth or jest, so merely posed her a different question in response.

"Then what does one call a Fae dentist? You say you do not believe in soul mates- but the term itself can mean a great deal of things. I am inclined to believe that it is, in fact, love at first sight that you do not believe in."

His words were nothing but calm once more, offered simply and plainly for her consideration with no hint of tease. Such conversation was serious, after all, even if it was shared over tea and fine pastries. Risque, for now, seemed inclined to brush quickly over that topic. The woman instead was content to ask a far more potent question of her own. The length of his marriage and too- his sex life, so apparently captivating her attention. Ah, but how French she truly was! Such a thing, she insisted, was only natural. Why should she not ask after it? Quinn's head nodded once more as he took another sip of tea.

"You are entirely right. It is only natural. It should be spoken about more often than it is."

It was his thoughts upon marriage, however, that seemed to draw her attention. The woman insisted his words were eloquent. Indeed he must surely be a writer.

"Merci (thank you), I enjoy poetry when the mood should find me. Though I fear my wife is my only reader."

Risque paused once more before querying the mating bond and whether or not it was as intense with a partner of another species as it was amongst vampiric kind. Quinn's own features frowned momentarily, the vampire appearing thoughtful in turn before his head gently shook.

"The mated bond between myself and my wife is as potent and powerful, if not moreso, then what surely exists between yourself and your Darcy. What such a bond feels like to my wife, however, I cannot say. I do not know if Fae feel such things with the intensity of our species. Though she has told me, often, that she feels our connection within her soul. Whether it is truly as encompassing as what a vampire feels I cannot know. I doubt we ever will know when it comes to other species."

After all, how could the intensity of vampire emotion be described to those whomever would or could feel it? By that same notion, how was any vampire to know if any other species felt those emotions with a greater force? Such things had no measure. Risque's hand rose upward in an eloquent gesture to the rafters above and the vampire with the mismatched eyes who continued to watch them from above with clear disdain-even if he hardly dared to disobey his lovers orders. Their appetites, Risque insisted, were well suited to one another in those intimate moments.

"Sex with another vampire is, indeed, soemthing entirely unique. Our species does excel at it."

A near knowing look seemed to exist between the pair then before Risque returned that conversation to soulmates once more. As if it had played upon her mind. The woman insisted that perhaps he should define it- if he so excelled at words. Quinton paused once more,his hands reaching again for his tea in a manner entirely unhurried. The vampire seemed to savor that taste, before his golden gaze met the bright blue of her own.

"The term 'soulmate' to me means suitability and compatibility on near every level. It represents a being with whose very values and desires your own align. A being whose temperament equates your own and one whose existence improves the world in which you exist. How many people in all the world, Risque, can you say you have ever met like that? A true soul mate, a separate being who seems to be a very extension of yourself- is one of the rarest things in all the world. Yes, I believe in them- because I am old enough to know that things exist in this life I cannot explain and because in all my centuries of life I have never met another being outside of my wife whom embodies those things for me. I have met hundreds of millions of people in my life. Only one ever meant anything to me. Only one."

Quinn paused once more,his gaze shifting briefly upward towards Darcy before meeting Risque's again once more. His words, yet again, as calm and simple as always.

"I asked you of soul mates because you speak of your Darcy like he is yours."