CYNICAL.

"We all have those nights, I figure - too much or too little on the brain." For Aria, it always just edges on too much. No matter what, her mind is always churning - and not always focusing on the correct thing. "Fiction..? What kind, if you don't mind me asking?"

And then to answer her question - "A break tonight. Trying to recharge since I seem to have found myself in a rut."

"It's a murder mystery," she starts, clicking her pen ready then unready, mindlessly and in a loop. "Psychological, to some extent. More of a 'Why dunnit' then a 'Who dunnit'."

Unmentioned, is how frequently Viktoriya had changed her mind — no doubt, enough times to drive her editor up a wall.

"How does a photographer find herself in a rut? 'If you don't mind me asking'." Aria's words, shot back in reverse. She sips her vodka, then, "No interesting subjects?"

Taking a sip, she has to fight not to laugh through it. "God, haven't heard that one since high school." Her own notepad is in her purse and she itches to grab it and just - write whatever ideas come to mind. She's purposefully trying to let go for a night. "Are you taking a night off or just looking to get the juices flowing?"

"You got it, Billy." And as for Aria— "She's with me."

High school. Viktoriya laughs, "Which I both hope was yesterday," for her own ego's sake, "and also a decade past." For her attraction's sake.

Her notebook rests on the bar counter, pen tucked into it. She lifts it Aria's way, doing a little show of turning it under the light. "I was hoping to edit, but before I even took a seat, I could tell I was barely going to get a comma in."

Beat. "It's a book I'm writing. After so many years in journalism, I decided to try out fiction."

“Well,” she then smiled gratefully, perhaps feigning modesty. “I’m a down-to-earth kind of woman, but I do like excitement every now and then. But being exciting? Depends you who ask… You are right, however, the world will always be that way and at least that’s one constant in life. Everything else is so unpredictable and frightening… but that could be exciting too and that also depends on who you ask. Funny, isn’t it? How us humans are the same and yet so different.”

Athena took a sip of coffee. “What about you? I’m certain you must have done and seen some exhilarating things in your line of work.”

She removes the lid off her coffee up only to stir it some, then sip the steaming liquid. "So different," she agrees. "What was the most exciting thing you did last? You talk as though you have stories."

In crossing a leg over the other, Viktoriya also shifts slightly, facing the other woman fully now. "Ah, yes. I have seen a lot of exciting things, then written about it. I'm an observer, not a protagonist. Most times." A well-placed wink, there. "I saw a lot of war, back when I started. Now, I suppose I still see war, but it's a lot more subtle. Roars have turned into hisses. Lions have given way to snakes. I couldn't have predicted it," — except she did — "but here we are."

She's never been big on vodka, even if her family sworn by it, even when she downed a couple of shots with her eyes shut tight, courtesy of her cousin, when she was at her lowest. Vodka wasn't an editing tool for her, if anything it was an inevitably inheritable vice that came with the Movska gene. Surprisingly It might have skipped a child.

Her hand reached for the glass of wine, "They've seen far worse too."

Busy with her own lectures, Viktoriya hadn't found the time — or the interest — to sit through a chemistry or philosophy class. Reviews are all she has.

"Is that a professional opinion?" It's a poke. Zed rarely finds the humour, but Viktoriya is not Dr. Batrum still talking about an outdated thesis. He knows Vahl, dare he consider he doesn't actually dislike her company.

Even if they get satire. "You haven't been here long."

"You and me both," Athena replied with an amused smile. "And to me it's not controversial. I'd rather have a woman for company than a man any day." And in more ways than one.

“A lecture?” She then echoed, pausing to sip her coffee. “Oh, I know you. You were a journalist, right? Or still are."

Athena has always been on the fence with journalists. The press had reported on her and Konstantin's chaotic divorce all those years ago (horrible things, empathetic things, you name it) and had been writing about her since; usually in terms of her philanthropic work, thank God, but every now and then they liked to stir up a little drama. High society always made for juicy stories and that was just something Athena had to put up with.

While Viktoriya didn't expect to be recognized, it's far from a bad thing that it turned out so. "...I haven't made up my mind myself," she says, a faint smile there. "Anytime I think I'll stop, the world gets exciting again."

And as any good journalist worth her name, this woman doesn't strike as unfamiliar either. But she'd have to dig through the archives — after this long, everyone looks like someone she's seen before. Hundreds of thousands of faces, a million stories between them.

"You look like someone who makes the world exciting."

She doesn't expect Vik to plop down right next to her and she blows out a breath of air as she glances down at (and quickly away) the notebook. "Haven't tried it, but I hear it's killer." She nods towards some others a little more.. plastered. Forcing herself to look more relaxed, cordial, she opens up her posture a little more.

"A little tequila and Lightroom works wonders for me." But. "Columbia admin can eat shit." Multitude of reasons, considering the last week or so.

As for tequila, Viktoriya makes a face, "I could never stomach it. Or maybe it was the lime. Or the salt," she laughs. "My body isn't one to reject alcohol."

She gets onto a stool then, eyeing Aria as she crosses one leg over the other. "I heard they have been. You are what you eat, no?"

"Is the special ever special, here? I wouldn't guess." A sly smile on plum lips carried the jab at the poor bartender dealing with her the past hour. He pays her no mind. "I gather the only special thing here is the incredible people I get to meet," she turns slowly to the woman, holding out her glass in a mock salute as her smile morphs into her trademark smirk, "wouldn't you agree?"

It's a best case scenario. No underpaid workers, or overworked students to grace the scene. Just a very beautiful woman, next to whom she's glad to take a seat next to.

Viktoriya considers it. "Not always." Yet after eyeing the blonde for a moment, a smile slowly forms, "...But tonight, yes."