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Dani has never been very good at saying no to things. That's been the case ever since she was young, really, not wanting to be burdensome or to take up too much space. Growing up, as her sister's problems got bigger, she — on some barely conscious level — made herself smaller, any problems she had paling in comparison, any needs she had less important. She's aware of that tendency now, and the ramifications it's had on her adult life, but in a distant, hazy way, something part of her is afraid to examine too closely for what she might find if she did. It would call too much into question.

It's easier just not to go there, just like it's easier not to argue when she gets looped into other people's plans. She likes most of the other students in her psych classes, and it's nice to be included — to have people who consider her a friend, even if tangentially so, someone who gets invited on group outings but doesn't really spend time with any of them one-on-one or have deep personal conversations. It suits her just as well. She doesn't like to talk about herself or her life.

Another thing she's not very good at, though, is being social. She can fake it well enough, but it usually amounts to her standing or sitting off to the side, only halfway taking everything in. Such is the case tonight. The others are chatting boisterously, and Dani, meanwhile, sits at the far end of the table they've commandeered, idly twirling the glass of the drink she's barely had any of. It's fine. It's not ideal, but it's fine. She just wishes she'd brought some of her homework to try to get done.

A sudden gust of cool air signals the door to the bar opening. She doesn't think much of it until a few minutes later, when she happens to glance over at the bar and sees Vanya standing there, suit-clad and violin in tow. Excusing herself from the table, though she doesn't think anyone hears her, Dani heads over, angling her way in when there's an opening, smile lopsided and a touch awkward.

"Vanya? Hey," she says, gesturing to the violin. "Did you have a performance?"

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The mix of pride and shame in her stomach follows Vanya all the way to the table. Over by the bar is a cacophony of noise: people shouting for drinks or singing along with the jukebox or yelling about sports. Over at the other end of the bar, the din is reduced to a faint roar. Vanya is grateful. She doesn't really know what her powers will do when she's happy.

And she is, right now, happy. If she examines it for too long, she fears she will warp it into something to be terrified about.

"People are generous tonight," she agrees. She doesn't mean to be aloof, she just doesn't know how to feel. The last time she garnered public attention, the gain was ill-gotten at best. Extra-Ordinary is, as it turns out, a work of fiction. To be recognized for something good is... unprocessable. It would probably be best if she talked about it. To Dani, though? Maybe not. Vanya cares what she thinks, and that's dangerous, too.

"It's nice to see you outside of work," Vanya says instead, since that's true and uncomplicated. "You had that big test, right? How did it go?"

"It went okay, I think," Dani says, her smile a touch self-deprecating, but pleased, too. It feels kind of stupid to think so, but it's nice that Vanya remembered, something Dani has long since gotten out of the habit of expecting. Maybe it's that feeling, or maybe it's the fact that she's already been drinking tonight, albeit not very much, but while she might otherwise have left it at that, now, she finds it easier to keep going. "Most of my classes this year have been... review, sort of? I started the first year of my doctorate back home, but didn't quite finish. So it was the one thing they didn't have on record here, and it had been so long that it seemed better just to start from scratch anyway."

Shrugging, aware that she's probably given way too much information, she stops to sip her drink. She's rambling, which isn't something she generally does a lot, but school has been her primary focus for a while now. Besides, she really is devoted to what she's studying. She forgot that for a while back home, after everything fell apart. "How've you been?"

"I didn't realize you started your doctorate in the real world," Vanya observes, kind and dry. Dani's passion for her studies are clear. Vanya wonders if Dani, during her sparse quiet hours when she was younger, would secretly study psychology while the watchful--

Right. Not everyone grew up like that. If experts are to be believed, most people didn't. It's a good thing. Maybe she had a loving family and her hard work and passion are simply genetic.

"I'm doing well," Vanya responds: a collection of words she's never said in that order before. It's a special feeling, and Vanya is grateful to be in easy enough company that she feels safe enough to take a second to appreciate that. "We -- uh Elio and I -- were asked to play a benefit."

"I wasn't very far into it," Dani replies, nose wrinkling a little. Sometimes she wonders if she should just tell the real story, explain why she didn't even finish that year, but it doesn't seem worth it. No one needs to be burdened with that, and she doesn't need to risk falling apart around any of the few people here she's actually cultivated some kind of friendship with. Certainly she has no interest in doing so now, in public — especially not when she hears what Vanya has to say next, a smile spreading across Dani's face.

"A benefit? That's awesome," she says. "You know, I don't think I've actually heard you play yet." It's not like there would be much of a chance to do so when she's at work. She likes her job, and the quiet of it, but that combined with classes and homework don't leave a whole lot of time for her to be social outside of that.