Dance Party

[Armande]

Armande was just about to say something to Nik and the other American when his eye caught the blonde. He nodded to the man Nik introduced. "Armande," he said in passing.

She seemed irritated. Strangely, the thumping and noises seemed to encapsulate themselves in a bubble. It had been an interesting thing, he'd discovered. He was well versed in philosophies and meditative techniques. He even dabbled in them, over the years. Of them all, the Chongg Ran had always appealed. Detaching from the body was the first step. But then, later by layer, creating the world to study, that was where the real appeal came from.

It was only a hobby, really. But at this moment he felt time telescope and reality recede into layers, as if he could turn them on and off at will. What was off ceased to exist. A thought and it disappeared.

The blonde on the stool, irritated and ordering a drink remained. American, but with a slightly different accent. He wasn't well versed on all the regional differences. There was a hint of French, though.

He pushed to the bar and ordered a scotch neat. A sipping drink, to be sure. Losing control was not something he did. He flicked a blue eyed look at her, a reserved smile on his face as he let his eyes linger.

Nik thought him asexual. And he certainly did not require companionship to feel powerful or worthy. But he did take his delights...but only when he chose. And for some reason, he was emboldened to see what happened. Giorgio had happened that way. And Daniella. 

He took a sip and felt the burn. "Forgive me. I am Armande."