As Quinn went on about the virtues of the Dane pilot, Cyril could only shrug and nod along. There really wasn’t much information about her floating around, at least not that the public, or even a pilot, could access. 

“[color=caffbf]Cheer is lovely,[/color]” he said eventually, taking another bite and waggling his fork. “[color=caffbf]But piloting, at least, I mean, the auditioning part, really isn’t so different from the stage. You see a lot of cheer upfront. Lot of smiling, and laughing, and bowing. You’ve seen Ms. Dane perform, but I wonder what she’s like backstage that’s got her so squirreled away. Then again, she’s Euseran—maybe she just doesn’t kick enough puppies for their tastes.[/color]”

Between the modest portion and evidently delicious taste, he made short work of the rest of his meal, and poured himself a half-glass of wine to finish things off. He seemed surprised when she asked to spar, though not unpleasantly. 

“[color=caffbf]Wouldn’t that be a lovely change of pace? Believe me, I’d take training with you over Camille any day. Well, tomorrow-day, specifically. I’ve got an interview this evening, and rehearsal after. Hit me up tomorrow afternoon, say? I’ll go a few rounds with you, ring or sim, I’m eager to learn either way![/color]”

As things wound down, the waiter came back to collect their plates. There was brief hesitation to take Quinn’s, with almost half of the main course remaining, but Cyril waved them off and they brought it with them. No bill was given, though Cyril left a tip that might have been the whole cost. They weren’t followed on their way out, but they were watched, and Cyril waved farewell to the young woman who had spoken to him earlier. 

Outside, the citizenry had mostly returned to their business. It seemed that had some time before they were rediscovered. Cyril stretched and let out a satisfied sigh. 

“[color=caffbf]Well that was wonderful, thank you so much! I’ve always thought sharing a meal was the best way to meet someone.[/color]” He pulled his phone from his pocket, checked the time. “[color=caffbf]Ah, I’ve got a stylist appointment here in a few. If I don’t see you later tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow! Ta![/color]”

And with a final, friendly waggle of the fingers, Cyril spun on his heels and walked off. It didn’t take long for someone to notice him further down, and within moments a smaller mob was starting to form in his wake. Quinn had been spared, for now, but who knew how much longer her anonymity would last.