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"Play around, start with your hobbies and see if you can find something that suits for a job as well. As I said, you have a lot of time to decide." It might have been a little funny, hearing such a thing from a relatively young man that happened to already have their career-path engaged, but he did mean every bit of it. Just because he had known what to do with his life from a young age didn't mean everyone would - it did nothing good to be stressing over it, either.

Well, she's clearly been the victim of several attacks. But are you an innocent bystander...or a participant? Which side, if any. Knight? Officer? Senshi? As an intelligence specialist, Ian was quite interested, but was also smart enough to know that answers would not be garnered that day. "That's unfortunate."

"Ah, so you make your own clothing? I would not have surmised that from the quality. You've some measure of skill, I think. Perhaps that's an avenue worth further exploration."

He was trying, very hard. This wasn't really a 'date' though - and it couldn't have been, not from the moment he'd seen the young woman approaching him. They may not have been numerically that far apart in age, but mentally...well. She was far, far to naive for his tastes.

"Not at all, Evren. There is a multi-million dollar market for pet clothing. I'm certain you could make a business of it as well if you wanted, perhaps starting via Etsy? I hear that it's quite popular for such things."

Her self-awareness, sudden as it was, did actually pull something of a smile to Ian's lips. "Perhaps, perhaps not. I do not believe we are a 'match' for romance as this event intended, but there is naught wrong with discussing your skills when your companion has encouraged it."

Ian took a sip of wine, looking around at the various 'couples' making their way around the venue. "Shall we refresh our drinks and walk around whilst speaking?" He could be an absolutely delightful escort when he wanted to be.

Briefly Ian contemplated informing the young woman that he hadn't actually signed up for this event, that his b*****d of a cousin had and that the lack of a 'proper' date didn't bother him in the slightest. But that was family business and none of hers, so he kept his own council.

"It's none for you to be bothered by, Evren. This evening is going along pleasant enough."

As he preferred speaking about anything but the 'date' he was currently on, Ian continued trying to steer conversation towards her business prospects, or anything at all. Really. "Whatever works best for you, though perhaps your family may wish to have an online shop, where they could sell your items for you as well. Either way, it's a good place to start thinking, yes?" He smiled gently over his drink, remembering how to put just the right amount of crinkle at the corners of his eyes to make it seem real.

"Parents sign up for a lifetime of caring for their children, it's part of the package." Ian set his near-empty glass down so that he could fish a soft cleaning cloth from his inner coat pocket in order to clean his already pristine glasses. "Of course, I understand your concerns. They befit a caring daughter, adopted or not. Such things do not matter to parents, truly." Being adopted didn't mean that her parents felt she was anything but 'their daughter' - plain and simple.

After he'd cleaned his glasses and reclaimed his drink once more, he gently but firmly took her by the elbow and steered her towards another piece of art. He could see the way Evren was searching for words, so he took it upon himself to help just as he would have with his students when they were floundering. "There's nothing like a good piece of history, preserved and displayed appropriately."

The longer he made the attempt to escort Evren through the evening, the more he felt as though he held the tenuous position as 'third-wheel' chaperone to a high-school date. Only instead of there being an appropriately aged young man to accompany Evren, he was both the chaperone and the aforementioned date, which was even more awkward, despite his best efforts.

"Yes, unfortunate." He murmured over yet another glass of wine. Ian decided to allow their conversation to remain on something that the young woman seemed most comfortable with, namely: animal couture. So with each piece of art he gently but firmly guided her to (between glasses of blessed wine for himself and sparkling cider for her) he made commentary about which sections might have visual interest on an animal.

Mentally, he was counting hours - he slated two before he could begin winding things down, three before he could offer to escort her home. So around the three hour mark, Ian did just that. He was still behaving as gentlemanly as ever, expression schooled carefully to not show his irritation with the evening, or that he would be attempting to murder his cousin for setting him up on this travesty of a 'date' later.

"Miss Evren, the hour grows late and, unfortunately, I have many papers to grade still waiting for me. Would you like me to accompany you home, or will you be safe to make it on your own?"

She was a young woman, with all the self-centered foibles that entailed. Ian held no animosity towards her nor the youthful nature that made her that way, especially as it had been quite clear she had done her level best to be 'attentive' in her own way.

No, the entirety of his ire would remain focused on the cause of his evening: his cousin. Colin.

Ian at the very least saw Evren back towards the reception area of the museum where he had checked his own coat at the start of the eve, "If you are quite sure..." Dropped off by...your mother- How does one argue with that? He would not even bother trying, and at any rate his 'date' was already thanking him with the smile she'd borne most of the evening and making her escape.

"You're quite welcome, Evren. Have a pleasant evening, please give my regards to your mother." There. Ian had done his best to be a gentleman, he could slip away to the men's washroom to take a moment to compose himself lest he begin laughing aloud at the sheer absurdity of everything.

Once he was certain he was in no danger of losing his composure again, Ian St. James put his coat on and headed out of the museum, choosing to walk home to give himself plenty of time to begin planning out the recompense he would require from his cousin for this little prank.