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Daimon Winter

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Date: 2014-03-18 05:31 am (UTC)
nothingupmysleeve: (dark astonished)
He's pleasantly surprised at the firmness of her statement. He hates it that so many women of this era seem to feel the need to never express their real opinions. "I think evolution is better than revolution. If only because it happens in a slower and less violent way. But that's only my opinion, though it's fairly well informed."

He notices a flurry of negative thoughts as they are seen walking in together, and lifts an eyebrow in irritation. Normally mixed race people are never allowed at upper class parties, let alone in the company of a proper British girl who wishes to keep her reputation. But Daimon, however good hearted, has no respect for what bigots think is proper, or for playing by any rules but his own. He reaches out with his mind, the only outward sign being an easily-missed golden gleam in his eyes, and squashes their negative thoughts firmly, forcing them to focus elsewhere. No one will remember them together, or remember him at all.

"Yeah, I feel bad for those who don't handle this well. I don't exactly fit in with society types myself. I do what I can for them. It's why I go to these things." Correction: he mostly comes here to rob rich snobs, but if his conscience tickles him about someone in the process, he generally follows it.

He looks her way a bit sharply at the comment, then touches her hand briefly. "Well, there are some of us. And more than you think would agree at least some. But no. Not enough, I suppose."
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