"Of course. Had he been willing to step out of a realm filled only with scientific babble, where there was only what was physically possible he might 'ave garnered a few more followers," David said with a shrug, reaching above Evelyn to hold the door long enough for him to slip into the cafe after her. A warm smile was given to the waitress who walked past them, weighed down with a tray of food for some patrons. “Not everyone is ready to hear story about the workings of the human body.” There maybe more to Evelyn, parts of her that people weren’t giving her credit for, but had she shown anything of that it went underappreciated. The point that David was trying to make was that nobody would care if she did such things as long as she was so analytical, or boasted in her knowledge.

She was now speaking about the museums in New York City, and with a thoughtful purse of his lips David considered this. Had she or her echoes picked up on what he was attempting to say without actually saying, it meant that she may be hiding a message for him. He digested what she said, thinking of what sort of meaning there could be in there. No mention of Bradford, which had stood in for himself. She had stated earlier that she was artistic, perhaps it was a comment about her view on the art museums, or maybe it was her boasting once again. “Always heard that New York had some bril restaurants. Had to say I wasn’t disappointed when I first landed here.”

Evelyn shook her head, accepting her latte from the barista and clicking her tongue slightly against her teeth in a slight 'tsk'. His remarks, while partially directed towards her, also made her want to argue in defense of her favorite author. "Doyle had a fair number of followers, and it was the times where he tried to please them he made himself most unhappy. At a point, he was willing to try and do what he wanted, and free himself from Holmes by killing off the character. But it was so frowned upon he eventually relented and wrote the character back into the stories. Holmes was always trying to please others, and he is renowned for it. But wouldn't it have been better if he had allowed himself to write what he wanted and not listen to everyone else?"

She was countering his comments, arguing that she should be given the chance to do what made her happy. While many people would have found Doyle's more serious work 'boring', if that was what he wanted to do, why should everyone have stopped him Throughout the argument, she found herself relating more strongly to the conversation than she expected. There was something similar in the writer's plight and her own personal struggle for freedom and recognition.

To relieve some of the tension, she shifted back to the secondary topic. "I like the local restaurants best. Things are more personal when you get to know the staff." Part of that felt like just casual conversation about food. It was harder to work in any personal questions this way. "So what would you say makes Bradford unique? Every city has it's tourist attractions, but surely there are things that would be more locally appreciated."

The mental challenge that Pidge presented was giving David something much more important to him than a quick money fix. Or at least it was more valuable for right now. Thinking through her responses had him try to sort out what was mere fluff at what had substance. The point that she now argued was that Doyle was miserable when he wrote what was popular with his followers. If they were still using their respective authors as a code for themselves Pidge was saying she was miserable doing what was expected of her. “That’s the risk that all authors face when they become public. You can hardly write the next great novel and expect the readers to not weigh in their opinion, and it won’t always reflect what you want. My point was that Doyle was too cold, too technical with his Holmes. Made it hard for me to invest much in his writing, no matter if it was his most famous novels or something else. I druther have characters that I feel an emotional attachment to.”

As they were given their drinks of choice, straight coffee for David, the question at last was about himself. Or at least she wanted to know about Bradford. Once more his mind was challenged, though not because of finding a double meaning. She had wanted to know what was so special about his hometown, and in all honesty, David didn’t think that there was anything. At least there was nothing about it that would be of interest to her. “What’s Bradford got? Wool and accents.” He didn’t care for his hometown because of what it had in it. The only things that actually had any importance to him back in England weren’t technically things. He may resent the way that his parents slaved away, how there was never enough of anything as a child, but they were still his Mum and Da. Anna had been his first love, or at least first serious one.

He frowned at his coffee, thinking too much once more about his hometown. Had he never gained a mutation, where would he be now? Kept in a prison? Joining the blue collar working force like the rest of his family? His mutation was something that he never wanted, but had it not happened he would have been in a life that did not suit him. New York was infinitely better than Bradford. “The largest claim to fame that Bradford can boast was it’s importance to the industrial revolution. Seems to me that nothing has changed since then.”

Evelyn had few conversations that required quite as much thought as this one presented. David was quick thinking, and many of the double meanings took a little work to sort out. Part of her wondered if it were completely necessary at this point, with Jensen still standing out at the car. But she wouldn't deny the fact that she enjoyed the mental stimulation. The somewhat condescending remarks, on the other hand, she probably could have done without. The conversation could only have so much relevance to Doyle: much of his remarks were being twisted towards herself.

Feeling like that portion of the conversation could just get argued in circles, she redirected towards the commentary about their respective 'cities'. While the description of Bradford was not particularly revealing about enlightening, the echoes still picked up a thing or two from it. His opinion of the city leaked into his words, and Evelyn tried to piece together what it meant. While he seemed proud of being British, there seemed to be a lack of love for his home town. Whether that reflected to a lack of love for himself, it was hard to tell. "How long has it been since you've been home? Seems hard to judge something unless you've been around there."

While symbolically, it wasn't necessarily representing David now, she could still figure out a thing or two from him just by his honest assessment of the town. She kept her voice flat didn't emphasize the statement very much, so hopefully he'd get it was more of a general question and less directed about him. She sipped her drink, and continued. "I think every city has more to show about it than they let on. I bet Bradford is more than just wool and accents." She emphasized this statement, letting him know that she was still learning more about him, finding what was beyond the surface.

There was a snort of derision from the man. He’d been in the United States for a little over a year, just long enough that two birthdays had passed without any happy greetings being given. He gave careful thought to the risks of letting Pidge know just how long he had been here. Ultimately there wasn’t much danger in it. “Not long enough. This city is more than Bradford ever was. More to see, more to do. An abundance of pretty young birds to lure a bloke away,” at this point he gave her his most devilish smile, “Makes it hard to stay loyal, but life is all about challenges right?” Now that Pidge was asking about him, through the casual topic of their respective home towns, David had to make sure to feed her only the smallest bits of information. There wasn’t very much in his previous statement of what Bradford held, but one way of interpreting it was that there wasn’t much to him. Probably more true than false. He was a shallow man in many ways, and wouldn’t try to convince himself otherwise. She might have picked up on him being in some relationship, and he supposed that he was. Not a very clear one, something that could be defined in terms of boyfriend and girlfriend, or engaged to be married.

David shrugged his shoulders and gave her a sly smile. She was implying that there had to be more to him than just “wool and accents”, whatever the accent would be translated to. “There probably is, but that would all depend on what sights a visitor would want to see. I suppose that wool makes for nice enough clothes. Everyone knows that England is one of the fashion capitals of the world. The shops are lovely, more one on one interaction with the staff.” Clearly David’s talk of the stores of England spoke of his fondness for fine clothes. His suit was of excellent quality and the jacket had withstood being folded and held over his arm with relatively little wrinkling. Pidge may value art, but David held stock in good clothing. His hint dropping said little about himself that she could have easily established with those echos of hers. By talking a lot he had said very little.

He could mention the death of the police officer that had been of such interest to the world for a brief period of time. Of course that would give her the implication that he had something to do with illegal activities. The whole point that David was trying to make with her was that there was nothing suspicious about him. With every sentence that they said having a double meaning they had to exercise caution. “I guess that if you were to look at the city in photographs things would seem lovely enough. Charming little homes nestled among businesses, factories breaking the skyline up a little. No city is perfect of course. Always hated the way those factories looked.”

Evelyn's echoes were busy analyzing his carefully worded reply, and she almost missed the slightly devilish smile he gave her. Her own emotions collided with the technical information and it was like tripping over her own thoughts as she tried to reassess what he had said. Meanwhile, the words rang in her mind and clung to it like used bubble gum. An abundance of pretty young birds... She shook her head, the color vanishing about as quickly as it appeared. "Well, at least you have something to stay loyal to." She remarked aloud. She sipped her drink and glanced for the window. Jensen was busy checking the oil in the limo. As if he had nothing better to do.

"I suppose new things always have an appeal, but a hometown has deep roots on a person. You can move on, but I've found it tends to tether you, in a way." The was the casual hint thrown in that perhaps he tried to disregard his past and his old life, but it would always be a part of him. He tried to act casual and as if there was nothing more to him, but things were always more complex than that. He had a lot under the surface, and he liked playing a game of smoke and mirrors. But every once and while someone would get a wisp of the real him. The question was, what would they find?

He had a certain fondness for clothes. Just smoke and mirrors, again. "I'm not opposed to decent fashion, although a lot can be said when one cares too much for appearances. Vanity has it's own crippling effect if one isn't careful." She remarked aloud. The echoes honed in on his last remark. No city is perfect... He tried hard to keep up appearances, but there were still 'factories' breaking up the skylines. There were pieces of him perhaps he couldn't hide, couldn't get rid of. She still suspected he nosed around in less than legal activities. That would certainly account for the imagry.

One of the most unpleasant disadvantages of being as fair skinned as David or Evelyn was that when you blushed, it was blaringly obvious. No matter how quickly Pidge may have recovered, he still caught the flush of red to her skin, causing the devil in his smile to become more pronounced. He had suggested that Evelyn was one of those lovely birds that could lead a man astray. The implication alone had been enough to elicit the reaction that David was so use to getting. Rather than curse his youthful appearance, David fully embraced it. People were more willing to trust him, and the ladies thought that he was just being cheeky instead of too forward. Little to no doubt existed in David’s mind that Evelyn hadn’t ever been courted before. Hired bodyguard suggested protective, if not overly protective parents. She said that her parents wanted to keep her hidden away, and he had to believe that if they did that, then there would be some sort of control over her social life. If the fear was that having a daughter with a mutation would bring shame to their family then they would want to limit how many people they let her be exposed too. Of course there was always the possibility that Evelyn had not had a beau because of her personality. While she did provide David with a good mental workout, her arrogance and constant need to be right was enough to keep him from pursuing any sort of romance. She would be perfectly fine as a female companion if she weren’t so smug. Not that he was any better.

Evelyn said, hidden in the actual words, that David could not escape from his past, that he was tethered to it. What was with this girl and personal connections to the past? “True true, though you can stretch an elastic so far before it snaps.” He had moved on from England, not caring about it most days. His birthday had brought up a batch of homesickness, but the holidays that you would think he would feel the distance the most didn’t bother him. England would always in his mind bring about thoughts of hunger and cold. “Once that happens you’re left with just a curled up piece of rubber to toss into trash bin.” Evelyn just couldn’t get what he had said. She probably never had to suffer an empty stomach or feel that she was filthy because her clothes had obvious spots where they had been mended. She thought that the factories were a metaphor for his views of fashion or some such nonsense. Factories were a symbol of an industrial economy, one that depended upon the workers.

To David it meant that you spent your life sweating away where you were underpaid and put your health at risk. Everyone might need the goods produced in the factories, but nobody ever respected the people who worked in them. You could not get any more blue collar than his mum and da, and you probably couldn’t be more of a working slave than them. It was a life of struggle, and David wanted no part in it. “They always say that vanity is a sin, but society seems to say otherwise,” David was frowning, and there was a part of him that was thinking “Damn these rich people”. Those that viewed their money as a guarantee, who thought of their finances as nothing new under the sung did not deserve it and should have it taken from them as soon as possible. “Anything less than total self absorption means that you suffer from a poor self worth.”

Evelyn listened to him speak, and let herself lean against the counter, one arm crossed lightly across the chest. The nice thing about the echoes is that they were always learning. A wrong guess wasn't always a bad thing. In many ways, they still taught you something about your subject. When she was wrong, she could see the slight twinkle of victory in his eyes, and when she flushed, she could see the devilish gleam. In many ways, watching someone work their way into a position they felt was the upper hand in a conversation left them flashing their cards. She waited, listened, but she was smart enough to keep much of it to herself. She had a bit of pride to her, but not quite the same way as David did. Her victories were in knowledge. Everything was a bigger picture.

"You seem to disagree with society, but you are a fashionable enough fellow. You have a great deal of vanity. Aren't you falling prey to societies ideals if you maintain a level of self-absorption?"She mused aloud, sipping her drink. He was well mannered, cultured, but he seemed to have a big head from her point of view. Their questions were drifting towards a more direct conversation again, and Jensen was still distracted by the car. She didn't figure he would care much about the conversation though. Whether or not someone had an ego would probably bore him.

Usually one to back down or out when the spotlight was turned on him, at least in such probing manner such as this, David took this opportunity to press his point a little more. It was far easier to take the pressure off of himself was to put it on someone else. “Ah, but there’s a problem with your hypothesis,” David said, “You said your memory is flawless, which would say that I did in fact make an objection to society’s point of view. Clearly recollections can be difficult for anyone. Even Holmes made errors.” There were too many years passed for David to remember if the famous detective did in fact make mistakes. However by using Holmes he was referring still to Evelyn. Not once had he said that he was against vanity, let alone how it had become almost preferable to simple contentment. How she was getting such an impression was a mystery.

“If anything I’m all for it. Vanity is what drives people to keep up with the Jones’ iffin I may borrow one of your people’s phrases. When someone is vain they have to have the best. There simply is no other option, especially if they want to convince the neighbors that all is well behind closed doors.” Not that it always worked that way. No matter how nicely presented he was in his youth, David’s financial situation was as obvious to his schoolmates as his slightly overgrown front teeth. With hard work, even if it was work that his family frowned upon, David had managed to shake off the image of the welfare dependent street scum. Moving to an entirely new country allowed him to further develop a new image of himself. “Do you know how much of my business comes from people boasting to others about their new stereo systems? Should there be a telly program of some celebrity’s home, suddenly everyone wants home theatres just like the ones that they watched. Doesn’t matter to them iffin there’s no room in their house for such things.”

Of course it bothered him that Evelyn said that he was vain. David knew it was true, but that didn’t mean that it had to be pointed out. Much like he had accepted that he was selfish and would always end up electing to take the most corruptible path, provided it put him ahead, David had accepted that he was vain. The point of confidence had been surpassed, and he took pride in his appearance to a high level. “When the Lord of the Rings movies came out my business boomed for months. You take something that spectacular and everyone wants to see it in the best possible quality.” Once more there was more to the words than what was said out loud. Lord of the Rings was Tolkien, which meant that it stood for David. Puberty had been kinder to him than it had others.

Evelyn's face pulled into a small frown, but she pushed her hair from her face calmly and took the man's biting words in stride. A challenge on her memory was something she took personally, but speaking too soon would just deepen the cut with flawed argument. "Every statement is open to interpretation, so what statement is 'correct' for myself may sound flawed to you. Think what you will, but don't question my memory. My interpretation is the only thing worth looking over." There was a sharp bite to the statement, and she took a sip of her drink.

"I think society thinks we should be given value by those around us. When others compliment us, tell us we look good, confirm our achievements then we can have self-worth. They tell us we need to have confidence, and thus vanity is acceptable. But the only real value comes from confirmation from others.

"Sure, people who are vain feel the desire to be the best. People who are vain sometimes come to think they are the person they imagine themselves to be. Yet part of you still seems to desire confirmation that you are everything you believe yourself to be. Suave, charming, intelligent. Society looked down on you, sometimes still looks down on you. You want to think believing you are something will make you that. But I think part of you still feels the need for confirmation. And that's where you're falling into societies trap. You don't mind being vain. But I think part of you has a problem with needing affirmation." She shrugged.

Ouch, he had insulted her. The point was that her statement had been flawed, and now Pidge was trying to cover up that fact by saying that there was interpretational differences between people. "And your interpretation just now was flawed as well. I had said that there was nothing in our interactions that would say that I don't value societies views, and that if anything I fully embrace it. You said that I seem to disagree with societal views. An incorrect interpretation of facts means either the facts were false to begin with or you did not record them properly. Again, nothing on my part could be taken as me saying I condoned vanity. While we were walking here I did take offense to your sleight against me hats, which also supports my vanity. It also was a sleight against proper manners for a bloke, but that is beside the point."

This was easily the most that the two had to say this night, each one trying to prove that they knew more, that they had the correct view on David. Given that he was the subject of discussion, the Brit felt that he should have the final word. “You are right that I’ve been looked down upon. I’m not a big man, and Bradford is full of those with more meat on their bones. You’ve the factory workers who have arms more like hardened steel, or farmers who spend hours of their days carrying more weight than most of the people here in New York would even think possible. I may be vain, but I will concede that when the best insult offered towards a bloke is that they are a lass, there is something wrong with society, but that doesn’t mean that I disapprove of being vain, nor will I deny the need for acknowledgement.”

A finger was raised to let Evelyn know that he had more to say, but first was the matter of the coffee. The waitress had been kind enough to provide them with a good brew, and given how David liked to approach the matter of sleep, he needed caffeine. Whenever he had a con in the works, or any sort of event that required planning ahead, David would spend days without sleep, obsessing over every tiny detail to prepare himself for any possible outcome. After the plans had been figured out he’d crash, and crash hard, usually once the coffee and energy drinks no longer could fight off sleep. David drank deeply from his mug before continuing on. “So rather than waste time going to a gym and doing pointless repetitions with weights I used my God given talents. All those things that you say I’m pretending to be. If I can’t match them with strength and this idea of machismo, I gain their acceptance the other way. Ask any salesman and they’ll tell you the same.”

The level of annoyance in Evelyn was rising, to the point there was almost a tangible barrier going up between her and her companion. Flawed and wrong were two things she took very personally to be accused of. The echoes in their nature came across as being factual. Evelyn always felt she was naturally 'right', and it didn't really register that her observations had times where they were mislead, especially when someone was aware of what she was looking for. David was dishonest, and the fact he was pointing out 'mistakes' in her argument just made it worse. It was like he was intentionally trying to mislead her and twist the situation so he looked better. Of course, if he made her only see what he wanted her to, then she might make mistakes. This conversation was annoying.

Her lips pursed together and she took a sip of her drink to keep from blurting her thoughts out. Jensen would be in the shop in an instant and she needed to handle this herself. There was a pause in his stream of words, an opportunity to say something clever and cutting back, but then he signaled for a moment.

The line on her lips turned into a frown.

"Well, you sure seem to have a firm opinion of yourself, and I suppose that is what matters. You after all, probably know yourself best." Any further defense of her echoes, her powers, and her ego was suppressed, and she composed herself like she would with any party guest her parents made her converse with. There was no more amusement with the conversation, merely annoyance with a salesman and his need to have the final word. She turned, and gave a dip of her head towards the waiting car outside.

"As eventful as this conversation has been, I believe I've kept Jensen waiting long enough. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening, and your coffee." She said, and moved towards the lingering vehicle.