If you wanted conversation, Ares' Symposium had it. If you wanted cleanliness, Ares' Symposium had it. If you wanted art and a sense of ancient decorum, Ares' Symposium had it. Human dust did not touch this sacred name. Cracks of time did. Low couches and tables of bottle and benches and carpets were occupied by men and women draped in fine robes, sipping wine and engaging in heated debates about the state of the Underground.
But the central focus was on the higher up on the second floor. Like a balcony overseeing everything was a committee of individuals at a table. The true power of the symposium gathered on that table in the second floor. Overlooking, glancing, analyzing everyone that came in, even Dasha.
'Good to know the rumours were true.'
