Calliope nodded in approval, having nothing more to add to it. Money had never, even being enough in their lifetime. And it probably never was, especially not now. Calliope sighed, probably thinking about having to find a regular customer who was willing to pay well without trapping them. Then they shivered, thinking about how wealthy customers who were interested in their likes tended to know each other and then… what about Darius, did he know him? Chéri took a long breath and lost themselves in that thought for a moment. Chéri nodded “Although I don’t think I can dance again. Not for real.” They didn’t finish.

Chéri nodded and said “Female dancers wear more clothes, but for some reasons people seemed to find it weirder.” Ah yes, some good ol’ double standards, ever forget about that.

Calliope had been quiet and so was he. He listened when he finally spoke. He spoke softly , showing sympathy with his voice as he didn't know what he'd do if he couldn't paint any more. "Is there a particular reason? If I may ask." He glanced around the canvas at him. "If it is personal or painful, you certainly don't need to answer."

"That is strange. I guess to add more to hide the female figure somewhat where the men are most nervous to see because they can't control themselves. " He laughed but it wasn't funny. He didn't understand how men so often couldn't just control themselves, even when he was at his most in need, which had been rare, he'd never lost his head. Though , he was admittedly very easily moved by his heart.

Calliope wasn’t shy. They had never shown even an ounce of shyness. But what they were was terribly reserved. And this, apparently, was something that made them very reserved indeed. Calliope looked somewhere else and stared at nothing. There was a serene quality to them. But they were silent.

At the observation regarding men and their ability to control themselves, Calliope laughed “Do you really think they can control themselves with male bodies?” They raised their eyebrow and looked amused with the naiveté they seemed to find in Darius. Curious to see his reaction, too, since he contradicted his very first impression.

Darius looked around the canvas towards Calliope and instantly apologized. "I'm sorry. You definitely don't need to let it bother you. It's your business, not mine. Don't let it get to you at all! Please, relax. I'm not going to dig into your secrets. I give you my word."

He smiled weakly but the question had him surprised. "They can't? I mean, a nice body is a nice body regardless. But I don't get how people can't just control themselves... we aren't animals." He shook his head and focused on the painting.

As anyone who had known Darius for more than an hour could have told you, he seemed to take the lack of response as something he had personally done wrong. Calliope shook their head. Just no, whatever that meant. They didn’t dwell further on the topic, since there seemed to be no real need.

Darius’s smiled weakly and seemed surprise. Calliope laughed and said “Oh, but it has nothing to do with that, you know? It is how they want to handle what they feel. It’s that they like to decide. They like to know that they ca do whatever they are dreaming of with the dancers, even though they might not want it very much.” Calliope was clearly reflecting without the topic in a very spontaneous fashion, based on how they thoughts come out with a little distance, as if they hadn’t really thought about it very long.

Darius shook his head still not getting it. "Seems ridiculous to me still. A dancer is at their best when they are in control of their own body. So it clearly makes sense if you want to make the best of a situation is either to keep it to your fantasies or give in to what they want. But then.." His voice trailed off. He was a virginal artist who enjoyed art more than flesh so what did he know?

Chéri bent their heads to the side and look pensive, which made them especially angelical, very renaissance painting. “I think it has very little to do with the dancer themselves. It is the idea. The strength and the grace, something you cannot grasp, that will go away so easily, that you can take to do whatever you enjoy, even break it.” How Calliope could come up with such theories wasn’t exactly a fascinating thing, but they seemed to have enough ideas about how such thoughts work as to reason around them.

Darius shook his head and focused on his painting. "People are not toys. Just the idea of it..." he understood it though enough, from the sidelines. Adventures with Chris popped into his mind. Scared people in a home they broke into or getting into fights. Lots of images came to him and he started to feel queasy.

"Let me take a break." He immediately stepped away and opened the window for air.

Calliope had not trouble in noticing Darius’s distress, but before they could say anything, the painter suggested taking a step back. Bending their head to the side, Chéri followed Darius making his way to the window. As silent as a cat, they got up, got closer and walked towards the man. Raising a hand, Chéri tried to touch Darius’s back “What happened?” No sense in asking if he was alright or needed help.

Darius was startled by the touch but instantly relaxed. He stared out at the Carrington grounds and frowned. "I was just reminded of someone. He was the only friend I'd ever had, but he was a terrible man. He's gone now. But.. thinking of breaking people ... it reminded me of him." He was terrible, but was Darius so much better for sticking to his heels like a well trained pup? He did a lot for him, and he hated that he'd have done so much more if the man had asked. The tall man closed his eyes pushing out thoughts, he wasn't going to speak ill or think like that of the dead.