Quinn

The vampiric Queen beside him seemed almost...perplexed at those words he offered her. Her mind was undoubtedly sharp, swift in its decisions and its conclusion and yet, perhaps, her mind was almost too decisive. As if she feared to be indecisive in any sense. As if such notions of indecision might prevail upon her some impending weakness that she felt to be...human perhaps. Quinn, however, was content to continue to sip at his tea in quiet serenity. He had long since learned to ignore the ire of others. The clear and growing irritation of his companion so hardly a concern. Not when he remained certain such irritation was, he suspected, aimed entirely at herself. He so merely presented a target of sorts and yet- he so hardly seemed inclined to mind. What was more curious, perhaps, was that a vampire of her age, her power, her experience- only now seemed willing to consider those matters of love and matehood and souls. Her question betrayed her intrigue even if she seemed near equally fit to deny it. A notion Quinton so little need to press upon as she insisted that to speak of such things was akin to asking if she believed in the tooth fairy. It was that very query that prompted the elder vampire to inquire what one might call a fae dentist. After all, soulmate had many meanings. Such a thing so surely open to interpretation and yet his words, this time, seemed almost lost upon the raven haired feline Queen as she insisted a fae dentists was merely that. A dentist. Quinn's own lips quirked softly upward, that gesture holding a touch of humor and yet remained distinctly free of any tease. His words as patient and even as ever.

"You suggested that t believe in soul mates was akin to my asking you if you believed in the tooth fairy. Is not a tooth fairy merely a Fae Dentist by a different name? By that same notion a soul mate can be many things and hold many interpretations. It need not be only one image. It can take so many forms."

Emotion, after all, took on far more than simply one form and yet, for their kind, emotion seemed as elusive as it was drenching in its embrace. Their species seemed to feel emotion potently, powerfully and often with no small measure of volatility. Yet within the same breath they so often seemed perplexed by it, confused by it- unwilling to accept it as if such a thing were a left over trait of their humanities long since forgotten. Risque, it seemed, was no exception. Much as Quinton himself had once been inclined to be. Those memories of his own reluctance to embrace those more....delicate emotions so hardly far from the forefront of his mind. The topic of sex was, perhaps, something of a curiosity between the pair. Risque spoke of it plainly, boldly- and in a manner so decidedly French the Belgian Vampire could hardly prevent that amusment from finding his features as he assured her of that very thing- the man inclined to nod in agreement that sex should be spoken f more plainly. Quinn so hardly opposed to sharing his...considerations of the differences between sex with another vampire and sex with other species. There was a need to be far less....vigorous outside their own species. Most others were not so....durable, after all. A shame, really. Though Quinn was assured he had truly little to complain about when it came to his intimate moments with his with. Such occasions were....intensely satisfying.

The elder vampire's suggestion that he enjoyed poetry- even if he wrote only for his wife so readily seemed to bring an almost dubious look to his companions features as the articulate woman indicated that such a thing was....romantic. That hesitation withinher words belaying some effort at politeness when it seemed as if such a thing was near objectionable to her. Quinn merely lifted his tea to his lips once more. That particular blend was nothing if not entirely pleasing. Hmm. Perhaps he would inquire after what its flavor was. His wife would surely enjoy it. The empire head shook softly all the same.

"It depends on what you deem romantic. My wife enjoys....bloodshed."

Quinns tongue moved to brush near nonchalantly across his fangs. This the first and only sign of that distinctly...potent predator that lingered beneath his gentlemanly exterior. A mask he wore well and far better than most. One inclined to let slip the barest hint of what existed beneath even if only for a moment. That calm exterior settling upon him within the same heartbeat as that conversation shifted to matehood once more. Her desire to hear his thoughts upon it seemed to provoke the woman's discord once more as her features frowned, her tone taking on a sharp, near warning note. The very kind Quinn suspected kept her employees and those ranked beneath her well in line. She was, he suspected, a dominant leader in every fashion- and how well she deserved her position. His suggestion that his own relationship with his wife might, perhaps, hold greater intensity than what she held with her cowboy seemed to irk her. The vampire Queen was quick to defend her own thoughts. Quinn, for now, was simply inclined to meet her gaze evenly with his own. The pair given to silence for several long seconds before his head nodded softly.

"I see."

That, it seemed, was all the Belgian was content to say upon the manner. Quinn instead paused to sip at his tea once more in that same unhurried, near gentle manner. His wife insisted he was a decidedly slow drinker. In fact, she often insisted he was altogether lazy and yet-how certain Quinn was he simply preferred to move...leisurely. After all,he possessed all the time in the world. What good would hurrying do? That topic of soul mates, however, seemed to have edged itself within his companions mind as her accented lyrics further probed at his thoughts with her desire to hear them-even if, he suspected, she might take little pleasure from their utterance. How many things Quinton surely was and yet-how assuredly 'fickle' was not one of them. The near ancient vampire was content to speak plainly his thoughts upon soul mates and too-his experience when it came to the world itself. The world was full of people. Million upon millions of them. Quinn was certain he had met a great deal over his vastly long life. None of them, not one, had ever held the same meaning as his wife did. A meaning the vampire suspected Risque might hold for her Darcy- if only she was willing to accept it.

The sudden shattering of Risque's tea cup prompted the vampire's eyes to raise ever so slightly, Quinn simply reaching for the nearest napkin to quietly dab at the wet spots of tea that had landed near himself.

"You appeared to have spilled some tea..."

Those very words were uttered quietly as always, the vampire suspecting Risque so hardly heard him as she seemed to cling to her control with a degree of difficulty. Hmmm. It seemed such a topic was, perhaps, more....pointed then he had first suspected. An error on his part perhaps nad yet fascinating all at once. Risque, and her Darcy, were both truly....intriguing beings. Quinn glanced briefly upward to those landings above. The vampire cowboy with the curious eyes was at risk off falling of that balcony completely in response to his mates sudden 'distress'. Risque seemed content to insist Darcy was her mate and nothing more. She had no soul to give. His ideology was flawed. She demanded proof it was not.

"Mon Cherie- you have a soul."

Quinn so merely continued, the vampire wiping up the last of that tea before gently placing the napkin aside.

"Any emotion at all is a symbol of a soul."

How readily those words were uttered with the same soft assurance in which the Belgia often spoke. It was Risque's demand for 'proof' however that seemed to coax a frown the his features. Quinn, for several moment, inclined to merely think upon his words before his gaze lifted to her own once more.

"When I suggested to you that my wife was my soul mate and by that notion my bond with her was stronger then what you felt with your Darcy you were quick to argue. To defend what you held with your mate, non? If you do not believe he is your soulmate then why, mademoiselle Risque, do you defend what you have so strongly? Why did it irritate you so much when I suggested mine was more? If my wife is my soulmate and your Darcy is not yours- what is there to argue?"

Was she not her own proof? Quinn moved to life that tea cup to his lips a final time, draining those last remnants of tea before placing it back down.

"You need not answer it if you do not desire too. It is merely a consideration. You are a woman of great intellect, that much is clear to me also. Whether you think on it or not is your choice alone. I have, however, enjoyed your tea- and your company. It is not often I meet any one of our kind I am inclined to engage in conversation with."