<div class="floatleft">(http://bd2d3bc3b56e110ea284-87b4cdf8cd56f5994e953e9e7664483c.r44.cf3.rackcdn.com/3138_44fe3882-d65a-4a14-b73a-651a16aa8842.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Jason Aaron Vandel (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=250173.msg12382263#msg12382263)<br/><strong>City | Date | Time:</strong>Las Vegas, NV | October 28, 2014 | 6:50 PM<br/><strong>Tagging | Mentioning:</strong>Closed, Olivia<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Dinner time.<br/><hr/>“I'm sure that I would be,” He commented, chuckling about Nikolas' strength. He had no doubt the man was strong, he certainly looked it; despite that Jason wasn't the least bit concerned, because despite his rather basically toned body he had a strength that was anything but normal – and at worst that was only the very tip of the iceberg that was Jason Vandel.<br/><br/>Listening to the story that she shared about how she'd gotten contracted by Charles made sense – though he did have to wonder why he was in a tattoo parlor, that didn't seem much up his ally; then again looks could be deceiving as he was living proof of. He looked once more over the tattoos that she displayed, nodding as she talked about her powers. It was interesting to hear her discuss how they worked, what she could do with them. “Something exciting?” He inquired, and with a small chuckle he absently suggested, “Like a dragon?”<br/><br/>Of course he was only just kidding.<br/><br/>He was very aware of her hand on his, and that was something he wasn't sure how to handle. There was a part of him, an older part, a dutiful part that wanted to tug his hand away – though he made no real outward sign of wanting to do so – and explain why that was wrong. There was another part of him that remembered the still – vaguely – fresh agreement he and Elena had come too. Of course he didn't know if there was any sort of protocol for these things, was he supposed to phone her first? How would that phone call even go?<em>'Hi, honey? I'm eating dinner with a lovely lady in Vegas and we're holding hands. Just thought I'd let you know!'</em>It sounded ridiculous as he mentally recited it. She hadn't asked him for any sort of permission – but then again she hadn't done. Or she had. Jason's forehead creased for a moment while he tried to sort that one out.<br/><br/>His eyes shifted from her, where he had been paying full attention, to her thumb, if only to sort of mentally capture that moment. He wasn't going to act like he didn't like the gesture – and it shown in the way his features smoothed out again. “Me?” He finally said with a little chuckle, “Well I hope not being like those people isn't a bad thing.”<br/><br/>How did one begin talking about themselves, randomly, without any sort of direct line of questioning. That meant really evaluating those things that were most important about yourself and offering them up. “Well, I was born in Caxias do Sul, a little city in Brazil.” He started, and before he could get to another point he had to figure out where exactly to start. “I got into a lot of trouble in my youth, the area is run by the cartels and my family was in deep. Eventually I got away from that and found my passion in my art, and I studied under a master for a couple of years before my past caught up with me.” He sighed a little, “That's when,” He gestured over his shoulder with his free hands thumb, “That happened.”<br/><br/>Jason shifted his gaze momentarily away from her, just to observe their surroundings. The longer he looked at it the more he liked the interior of this building. Eventually – and not really that long after – his eyes managed to find their way back to their hands. He chuckled softly, because this was about to be the bomb he didn't know how to handle, but he wasn't comfortable keeping in his pocket, “Some time after that I met my wife, Elena. She fell in love with my craft, and brought me back to America with her so that I could try it in a new way. We were married not too long after that, and we bought our own home in Albany. She was tired of living in her father's old houses, she wanted something... Hers.” He explained, swallowing a heavy lump. “After that? I started blowing glass again more regularly, both for myself and for money, not that I need it any more.” He furrowed his brow, and looked to catch her gaze, “I'm afraid I don't know what else to tell, but I'm I've got nothing to hide... You already know my big secret.”