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At the question, Clarice's smile shifted around the edges. Selecting a dinner roll, she pulled of a small piece and ate it, enjoying it's soft, buttery warmth. Taking a sip of water, she finally began, "I brought you here to talk, because I wanted you to have a little time to relax." She pulled off another piece of bread and continued, "From the moment you woke up at Deus, you've been steadily backing yourself into a very hostile corner. It's hard to think clearly when your back's against the wall."

She looked across the table at the trainee, expression sympathetic, "I thought it'd be best to get away from that, if only for a little while."

His reasoning brought a quirk to her brows. Nodding, she replied carefully, "So you do understand then? This um...honesty of yours has gained you a lot of hostile attention?" Before she could go on, their waiter arrived with his meat sampler and her spicy crab salad which looked entirely delicious. Even better, there was now wine. A modest glass of paired wine for her, and a bottle for the trainee.

When they were left to their appetizers, she continued, "I'm sorry if you don't like the dinner, but I was telling you the truth. I don't intend to use this evening to harm you. I suppose you could call this my very underhanded attempt to get you to talk and listen without either of us needing to be aggressive or do the alpha posturing thing."

She didn't comment on the table manners, though it would have been a welcome surprise if he'd had some. The other diners cast surreptitious glances their way, likely feeling amused or smug that his behavior matched his appearance. Despite this, Clarice found herself beaming happily when he said the food was good. She'd had a moment's guilt thinking she should have asked him what type of restaurant he'd prefer.

But when he went on about women, again, her salad fork took on several new dimensions as she gripped it tightly. Still smiling she answered lightly, "Oh, the break from posturing is for me. It's hard to have a constructive conversation when my position as a division assistant would compel me to establish authority. This is much preferable."

She finished the small salad and discreetly hid the fork under a napkin even as the trainee expounded further on his opinion of women. Oh god how any pieces of silverware would this man make her destroy tonight? Her rising temper was given pause, though, at that last. Can't trust women to be strong? That was...not quite what she expected.

"There's different kinds of strength, William, and different kinds of women. Deus...it doesn't discriminate. Trainees and hunters aren't really seen as men and women, or even people at all for that matter. We're...investments. As long as you're seen as a good, or potentially good investment they don't care who or what you are."

The next course came with impeccable timing, bringing the manly bison and Clarice's three smaller dishes. While waiting for the course to be set, she made a mental note to personally thank Clerise and Candace for giving her date such a regrettably valid point. But her dinner looked amazing, so any actual spiteful plotting was held off. After the waiter had left, she continued on the subject at hand, "While there certainly are some men who are stronger or smarter than most woman, remember that we're talking about hunters here. Magic weapons and portals to Vegas. We're stronger, faster, and more durable than any human has any right to be, regardless of gender. But again, Deus doesn't care about gender, it cares about results."

She took a bite of butternut squash ravioli, and her eyes closed for a moment as the dish's rich flavour and silken texture practically melted in her mouth. When she opened them again, she smiled at the trainee, "I know about the situation that occurred during your last mission, and you do have a point. But one of those reprimanded for it happened to be Candace Pennington. During her testing it has been noted with interest that she obtained the highest body count. As a trainee she had an impressive spar record. She's a capable fighter," Clarice waggled her fork at him, "...don't even try to argue, your spar with her is on video. During missions she is on record as being efficiently aggressive while maintaining a professional attitude. So overall? She's considered a damn good investment, as she's shown the desired sort of results, and so the higher-ups will overlook the occasional slip."

Clarice took a sip of the new wine and hummed softly in admiration, "Now you..." her voice trailed off and blue eyes shifted from the wine to the man. "Speaking in terms of investments, new trainees begin in the negative. The cost of time, research, equipment, travel, testing, lodging, food, and basic needs? Each and every trainee represents a loss in both finances and resources until their efforts pay off through daily duties and the occasional mission. You've been on two missions and awake for over a month. So tell me, William, where do you think you are on the Deus Ex Balance sheet?"

She listened to him without comment and the knot of does he not get the real problem here -frustration began to slowly loosen. Except there was no relief from him admitting that his worth to Deus was pretty much nill at the moment, just a heavy, sinking sadness. It kind of ruined the taste of her scallops, all the sads successfully tainting the succulent goodness. Clarice put down her fork and looked him straight in the eye, "You're right on the loss part, right now your value in Deus it teetering on a the edge of a very final abyss. It doesn't have to stay that way, but that's how it is at the moment. Coming to Deus, getting a weapon and becoming a hunter...they can offer you a clean slate and a whole new world of opportunity. But not if you drag all the past along with you." She sighed and took a sip of her drink, "I haven't looked up your records, but just talking with you and seeing your actions...the island is not the world you grew up in. The people are not the people of the world you once lived in, and whatever got you by in your previous life? It's not enough, and in fact? It's just making things worse."

She finished her glass and poured a little from his bottle, because he ruined her scallops so he owed her, 'kay? "I'm not saying you have to change yourself over night and turn into some kind of saint, guy, but you don't have to go around kicking every goddamn beehive in sight, either. You don't strike me as suicidal, William, in fact that's probably one of your strongest points as a hunter. You seem like a guy capable of surviving whatever s**t gets handed to you. Being a hunter brings with it a lot of choices that are morally questionable at best, a lot of danger, a lot of stress and...people break. I bet your pretty resilient in that regard. But..." she gave him a flat look and jabbed at her lamb dish, "...none of that means anything if you get yourself killed by your employer for being a dickhead."

Clarice took her time to enjoy the rest or her plate, slowly savouring the tender cuts of lamb and carefully listening to him talk, storing the words and emotions behind them for later consideration. The compliment earned him a genuinely warm, if a bit crooked, smile. With all his earlier talk, that must not have come easy to him. When he finished she was quiet for several long minutes, not so much awkward or tense, but thoughtful.

"Right now," she began after taking another sip of wine, "...you should probably start slow. It's not just getting yourself out of the hole, you need to stop making it deeper. The best, most effective way to start on that? Stop saying things that will piss your fellow hunters off. Like I said, you don't have to be a saint," she gestured widely with her glass. "You don't have to suddenly be some super nice guy that says all the right things, bringing rainbows and happiness with his very presence. You just have to not say the things guaranteed to make you the guy that everyone hates. That'll be a big step in the right direction. It may be tempting, but just...don't go there. Think of that abyss and stay silent. Walk away if you have to. If you have problems figuring out what not to say, maybe your weapon can help you out a bit. It's your partner. It does, in fact, have your back."

She put down the glass and gave him a measuring look, "The other major thing is missions. Do your best, work with your team, avoid antagonizing them, and for the love of god don't cause another division leader to write you up for insubordination." Her eyes grew wide and slightly incredulous that he'd managed to piss off one of the nicer, more reasonable leaders so early on and for what basically amounted to nothing. "When things go wrong on a mission? They'll be looking at you. When a team member gets hurt or killed? They'll be looking at you. You want to be able to say, with complete honesty along with a number of witnesses that you were in no way at fault."

The blonde drummed her fingers for a moment, unsure if he should hear this next but...he really needed to understand, fully, the situation he was facing. "It likely won't be easy for you but, if Deus decides to just cut their losses with you? There won't be a fight. There won't any kind of reprimand or discussion. One night you'll just go to sleep and..." she traced the rim of her glass thoughtfully and then sighed, "...and never wake up again. No chance to figure a way out or hang on a little longer. There's worse ways to die, of course, but..." she trailed off and finished her glass with a sigh.

"It's not my job, by the way, it's Simon's, but he dislikes wasting time on things like warnings. I'm just...I've been in your position. The whole abyss deal, complete with being voted Most Likely to Be Shanked By A Peer," at the admission, she gave a small shrug and poured herself another glass. "So it is possible to eventually get beyond this, just...really...really difficult."

Watching him soak up the bit of advice she had finally brought on the sense of relief that had so eluded her earlier. Things were sliding home for him and...to be honest she didn't expect any miracles. But that he was willing try was all Clarice could really ask for. When he'd finished she was smiling and about to comment, but dessert got there first. It was as if even the restaurant itself was rewarding the man in question. Clarice also got one last flight of wine to with her her lemon tart, so she'd even stop pilfering what was left of his.

Beaming at him, she took a small bite of her amazing tart, "Oh my god this is so good!" Her eyes went to the red head, "That resolution is good too, guy. I really do think you have a definite chance, so yeah, just take it slow, and maybe make that whole thinking thing your new bad habit." She paused a moment, and her smile twisted a bit awkwardly, "But don't take it to an extreme, becoming a whole new person over night would just make people freak the ******** out."

The assistant took another small bite and sipped her wine, much more slowly and carefully now, going home drunk would not be the best of ideas. "You aren't going to like, win everyone over. It's been years, and some people still hold a grudge against me, but at this point? That's their problem, not mine. I um..." she should probably explain a bit, but admitting that you're pretty capable of being a shitty person just doesn't go that well with dessert.

"I did some pretty terrible things during my trials. and people hated and distrusted me for it after we woke up. That's actually pretty common but...instead of trying to show them otherwise? I went with it, like, if those people wanted to act like I was some kind of monster, then I would damn well show them how much of a monster I was capable of being." She jabbed at the sorbet a bit viciously, "Eventually the doctor sat me down and gave me some advice." The blonde gave Rep a sardonic look, "And I think you know that he gives very good advice."