<span style="font-family: 'Georgia'">Quinn didn't sound all that perturbed by his hobby. If anything, he sounded intrigued. He snatched up a piece of raw bone with enthusiasm, and looking at him right then, an untrained observer wouldn't have guessed that he held the detached limb of a creature that had breathed its last only a week prior. Though a more discerning eye may well have determined that the bone in Quinn's hand, despite its narrow shape, was a touch too long to have belonged to a deer.<br/>
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More than anything, however, it pleased him that not only was Quinn not repulsed by his choice of medium, he actually appeared quite fascinated. Saw potential in taking a piece from something dead and breathing new life into the material. How unlikely was it to have found a man with such particular interests? He didn't dare to assume that Quinn was open enough to see the full extent of his work. <i>Yet. </i>Though the longer they spoke, the more he began to suspect - perhaps even hope - that if anyone at all could see beyond the face value of an avant-garde piece of artwork, perhaps it would be Quinn.<br/>
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Assuming he was around long enough for all that. Most of the individuals Mikkel entertained tended not to remain in his close circle for very long, owing largely to his tendency to lose interest and his impossibly high standards. He couldn't yet know if Quinn would remain interesting, or if he would simply lose the charm that made him unique over time. He knew better than to be <i>too</i> hopeful, simply as a result of his general refusal - and perhaps an inability - to to develop a deeply rooted fondness for others. All the same, he couldn't help wondering about all the <i>what if</i>s. <br/>
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"Oh, you've seen a bit of it already. My chess set," he gestured sidelong in the general direction of his study. "The pieces are fashioned from the same material. Well, the dark pieces. Those took a bit of time, not only for the detail work but because bone requires a bit of priming before it can be painted. Particularly oil-based paints, which I tend to prefer. The white pieces are porcelain - for now. I suppose I'm waiting for the right deer."<br/>
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Mikkel rose his glass to his lips for a quick drink before closing a bit more of the gap between them, reaching to lay a hand on Quinn's side. His grip was loose but inviting, indicating his interest but also a good bit of restraint. He wanted Quinn and made no secret of it, but he didn't need to make a mad, impatient grab for him. Somehow, he doubted it was necessary. "I could be convinced to show you a bit more," he offered. "After dinner. I did promise to ensure you wouldn't starve, if you recall."</span>