[ This is not Erik's scene -- he's never liked such showy, unnecessary displays when there's more work they could be doing. Charles' accident had been most regrettable, of course -- one of the very few tragedies that Erik had never meant to happen, not in his wildest dreams, but what's done is done, and all he can do is to move forward, to obtain what they both wanted all along, to prove to Charles that sometimes naive idealism can be a stumbling block, and not a stepping stone for anything.

He's only slightly surprised when someone else steps into his arms in a dance he had been thinking of slipping away from. A familiar height, a vaguely similar build -- and he cannot help but find the mask oddly pretentious. Old money, then -- only those sorts would have the money for something as intricate as this. ]

Mercenaries? [ He gives him a sharp glance, and a pointed, dry tone. ] Why would I want to pay for someone who can turn on me and my cause the moment a higher bid comes along?

[ But he doesn't let him go, leading him into another proper set of steps and taking control effortlessly. Interesting, that a mercenary should come straight for him -- but Erik had always been a believer in the cause -- why should he pay for someone to do the dirty work, someone not completely devoted to his efforts? ]