Ingram remembered his hand where it rested, and quickly pulled it away. Kirion’s smirk told him that his latent thoughts were precipitate. He hadn't meant anything by it, really. Or maybe he had, but if he had, he shouldn’t. He was curious about them – both of them. And he got the feeling that curiosity was mutual. But when you make a living sniffing through sordid sex scandals and shattered partnerships, you don’t tend to form a favorable view of the whole chaotic business. In all respects, Ingram tried to keep to himself.<br/><br/>And yet, grasping the hand of the silver-eyed man, he couldn’t help but to think thoughts not entirely suitable for polite company. And it was a party, after all. Ingram could afford some fun.<br/><br/>“Ingram,” he said, “though I might not classify it as an honor.” The room shifted, people pulled out with the changing tide. Everyone moving, the three in stasis. “I’m from Glen Avon. More or less, but more more than less. How are you liking it, up here with the birds?”<br/>