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Upscale nightclub in muggle London
Around 1:00 AM

The light rain currently washing the streets of London was no reason for Arianne to miss the opportunity of a night out. Especially given her current circumstances... For the past two weeks since she had deserted the academical life she had been feeling more alive than ever. No longer under the constraints of her position and expected image, she could now afford to be less careful with her public appearances. She could actually let her hair down once in a while. Theoretically, of course... Because at the current moment Aria was sporting a high ponytail and the sort of outfit she kept for her less than proper social occasions. Specifically—pants, leather pants, actually. It was something of a rare occasion to ever see the Desrosiers heiress in such an attire.

She hadn't expected much of it. It was a Thursday—generally, a day when one might find him or herself on a rather desolated dance floor. However, Arianne had been in London long enough to know where one might find a venue that catered to her specific needs at the time. Namely: a perfectly prepared White Russian, a crowd of strangers, good music and the opportunity to go home with someone. Maybe. So, here she was, ready to find her kill of the night, into her fourth White Russian and a dreadful Martini sent by some sad little boy with enough hopes to feed a nation's hopelessness. She usually had no problems brushing off unwanted attention—a tight smile and a deadly glare, or if they proved atrociously insistent, a few well chosen words. Tonight, however, the annoyances were proving many and bordering on obnoxious.

So, that's how Arianne retreated into her own little world, dancing by herself in the middle of the floor, swaying her hips in time with the dark rhythm of the song. Eyes closed and head thrown back, she had forgotten all about the people around her and simply enjoyed the music. But when she half-opened her eyes to throw a dangerous smile at no one in particular she noticed the back of someone she was fairly sure was none other than Éloi's most intriguing friend... The shaggy red curls and the particularly tight pants were a dead giveaway. The amount of jewelery adorning him was rather particular to the gentleman, as well. She grinned brightly and took a few steps forward, gently grasping his wrist to turn him around while inching closer to him. She tilted her head back and smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Monsieur Morgan, quel surprise" she drawled, placing his hand on her hip, and stepping between his legs. "You don't mind do you?" she asked, a small tight smile on her lips, leaning her head down to give him a coy look. "It's been rather tedious and sub-par so far" she sighed overly dramatic, rolling her hips against him.

1.	Massive Attack - Paradise Circus (Zeds Dead Remix)

Surrounded by strangers, Darian was perfectly happy. Few remained strangers for long. Dancing in muggle clubs still retained its appeal, every night out just a little more special for dipping into another world. The way they found solutions to problems easily solved by magic tickled him; he liked their ingenuity and their tastes. Of course, just because he was happy to make new friends did not mean he objected when a familiar hand grasped his wrist.

"Ms. Desrosiers," he said lightly, tilting his head up oh-so-slightly that his voice might wing its way all the more easily to her. "You can't imagine I'd object." He did not look as some men did intimidated or disgruntled at her height. In her heels, she was taller than him, but he only seemed sly and a little intrigued. Since she'd taken the liberty of pressing them together he felt no compunctions about smoothing his hands over her hips and into the small of her back.

The evening had just become a good deal more exciting. Around them, the muggles danced without the benefit of their secret. The music was loud, but not too loud, allowing Darian to lean in under the pretext of placing his lips next to his partner's ears. "I must admit," he said, secretive as the flashing lights colored them blue, green, gold, "I wouldn't have expected to see you here." He smiled to keep his comment from being too heavy, turning his head in towards Arianne. Some of his curls brushed her throat.

"Arianne, please" she mused, letting her arms fall along her body as she lowered her eyelashes over her eyes to look at the way their bodies pressed against each other. This was such a delightful turn of events! She could only hope everything her younger cousin had hinted to was true... She welcomed the migrating pattern of his hands and smiled at the movement. It was going rather well so far.

Aria watched a rather involved couple dancing closely, as the red-haired leaned in to speak closer to her ear, smiling at the small shiver that passed through her at the gesture. "I'm sure you wouldn't" she responded in a slightly amused voice, noting the pleasant way his his brushed her throat. It was her turn to lean in close, brushing his cheek with her own and raising her hand to place one on his hip and the other on his bicep. "I'm something of a part-time black sheep" she chuckled softly into his ear, turning her head back to watch him straight into his dark blue eyes. "I'm sure you know a thing or two about those" she smiled slily, stopping to look at his lips with an intrigued jolt of her eyebrows, before turning around.

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back on his shoulder. "I could say the same about you, however" she laughed softly. "Whatever might you be doing in such a place?" she asked innocently rolling her hips side to side as she bent her knees, grappling for hold on his hips to slowly slither down his body and up again.

"Darian, then." He traded his name for hers, quick and smooth as a fencer's riposte. Any play at manners from either of them was only that - play. With pleasure he warmed to their game. Though inevitable, it still required skill.

He smiled again (or perhaps the curve never really left his mouth), their eyes catching as she turned. "More than one or two," he responded, amused and flirting. This dancing was a far cry from his lessons as a boy. So formal, pureblood dancing. Another point in the Muggles' favor was that this allowed the dancers to get so much... closer. His hands slipped down her body like she slid down his own; encircled by his arms she was making him feel lazy. But that was really society's expectation. This sort of thing was all about balance - he was only supposed to keep from jarring her and enjoy the view.

He did enjoy the view but he liked participation better, so moving with the music he fit their bodies together. The flex of her hips was hypnotic. He rocked into her, supporting, encouraging, as against him she arched and swayed. "I like these Muggle places," he told her, ducking his head to murmur to her as she sank. He was not expecting prejudice. Arianne had chosen to come here too, after all. "They have such interesting ideas. I like their dancing and their drinks, and whatever happens here stays here. I'll never see any of these people again." He traced his hands down her arms to take her hands, twisting her around to press close for a moment and then spin her away. A second later and he pulled her back, a little old-fashioned charm that ended with her back against him again just as they were. Darian grinned. "Except you."

She nodded to acknowledge the exchange of permissions in informality and found herself smiling with a rather intrigued curiosity. His name had the intrinsic quality of being positively sensual, and she'd love to hear how it would roll off the tongue of someone found at the mercy of his... ministrations.

Oh, if anyone was black sheep royalty, that was Darian Morgan, from what she'd heard here and there... and even saw, thanks to Éloi's voyeuristic endeavors at Le Masque. Not that her dear, petulant cousin would ever know about that, but it was a lesson to be learned in trust and having your own plans backfire. Endless teasing was surely in the future. Although now she was more than curious as to whether Darian's effect was limited solely to her cousin or if it was another of his many outstanding skills.

'Enfin' Arianne thought to herself with a pleased, relieved smile as Darian appeared to know what he was doing. In Aria's opinion there was nothing more attractive than a man that could move. It proved to certain other qualities—at least, in most of the cases. She completely agreed with his perceptions. That was why she came to these places... Where no one knew her, no one expected her to be anything, to act like a Desrosiers, a woman of her status. And muggles really partied better.

She threw her head back laughing, surprisingly pleased, as she found herself being spun away, only to be pulled back swiftly. "My, my, a man after my own heart" she said between peals of laughter. "Can both waltz and grind" she added with an arched eyebrow. She chuckled one last time and tilted her head to watch him from the side, as her smile disappeared only to be taken over by a focused expression. "Will you?" she asked seriously now, if still a little amused. "And here I was thinking on this night I was actually at home, revising the last details of an event I am coordinating" she added with a polite little smile, getting the ugly side of this little accidental meeting out of the way so it would not come back to haunt her later. One could never be too sure.

She gave him a smirk as her gaze turned darker, more heated, and she leaned closer to nose at his throat, brushing the skin with her lips, dragging her mouth to his ear. "On the other hand... whatever happens here stays here, mais non?" she said with a smirk as she moved her hands to circle his hips around and placed them right where one might border on indecent territory.

"Oh," Darian said lightly. "In that case I must have been mistaken. Pardonne-moi, Mademoiselle Muggle, you look like a woman I once met." She moved up close; they were not really dancing now. Swaying, if that, not to seem out of place on the floor. Her mouth was at his throat and his ear, her hands dragged across his waist and slid back, down, Darian found himself smiling. She wasn't shy. He liked that. He canted his hips against hers, a hot little press dictated - demanded - by the encouraging flex of her fingers.

There was little need for her to worry that Darian couldn't be discreet. This was an old, old gambit. He turned his head and when he spoke his lips moved just at the corner of her own, brushing her skin, voice thrumming between the two of them in their intimate little space.

"Perfectly clear," he said. He sounded amused but not careless, a man who might have agreed to such an arrangement a hundred times (or struck it often enough on his own). There, too, was a curl of heat in his voice befitting their closeness. Now that this was out of the way, there were more interesting things they could be doing. Arianne had been too forward in their short time together for him to be content with dancing. One of his hands came up to cup her jaw, a brief but deliberate touch. He tilted her head just so, kissed her on her cheek with impudent flair. "If you need further persuasion, I could happily provide. What do you say? Will you make me perform in public?"

She had no way of knowing whether Darian was a man of his word or not, but she inclined to think that regarding this particular instance he would keep the charade going. If nothing else, he was a masqueradian and masqueradians knew how to keep their secrets. She smiled against the brush of his lips, satisfied to see him and sense him compliant to the arrangement and... responsive to the situation at hand.

She let her head be maneuvered by his hand easily, smiling a tad nervously at having been graced with merely a kiss on the cheek. 'Quite continental' she thought to herself - half amusement, half frustration - stopping short of grabbing his hair and pulling him into an actual kiss. She leaned her head further back to watch him, eyes raking over his features. She huffed in amusement and raised a challenging eyebrow, "Perform away, Darian." She was definitely intrigued.

Aria wondered briefly if this was a smart move on her part... For all the talk her cousin did and his apparent impassiveness, Aria, of all, knew just how possessive and irrational the boy could be. However, with one more look at Darian she quickly got to her senses. Éloi would just have to be kept in the dark and if not... ah well, she had her ways of keeping him under control.