Manti walked alongside her, his tail swishing from side to side. The dragon bit explained the fire breathing. The overall picture he was getting from her was some sort of fantasy inspired theme going on with he mutation. Of course his was as well if he thought about it, though his tended more on the more fierce-some side of that spectrum. "I work in a bike shop, repair them, build them, decal, etc..." he said, going over the run down of his day job. He was lucky that he could work in a job that mirrored his passions. "And as for what I can do, aside from what is obvious of course..." he rounded his tail to one side so that it was within hands reach and tensed it, and the tuft of his tail stiffened into sharp spines that clicked together as he walked. He broke one off at the base before relaxing again and letting the quills relax back into a soft fur-like state. "Let's just say Manticore was a very fitting nickname," he said, offering the quill as a souvenir. "I have poisoned spines, well, most of them, the one at the tip of my tail aren't, but the rest pack a punch. Their like fur unless I tense up, so I don't have to worry much about accidents." He could only imagine how inconvenient that would have been.

"You're lucky you have good work, looking as you do."  It wasn't meant as an insult; she'd seen far too many examples of unusual looking mutants not only struggling to find work but also a place to live.  It was a far too common story, in her experience.  "I mean, I guess I'm lucky too.  It can be tough when you don't have a way to hide what you are." Not that any mutant should ever feel like they had to.

"Yikes, I'd hate to imagine what it would be like to accidentally poison someone.  That would be terrible!"  She could barely imagine what it would be like to intentionally poison someone.  "My fire makes people sick but its not really dangerous, not like real fire. It's kind of my self defense mechanism."  She'd seen first hand how it could affect people if they got a full cone right in the face.  Misery, sickness and all around bad was the result.  Those few people she'd had to use it on deserved it though.  Every last moment of misery!

After a few more minutes of walking, they arrived at a small pub, The Copper Penny.  "Well, this is it.  We've arrived."

"You're lucky you have good work, looking as you do."

"You mean totally awesome?" rebutted Manti without hesitation, smiling and running a hand through his mane. As far as he was concerned, his appearance was a bonus, not a curse, and something he was anything but ashamed or humble about. True, some had 'tried' to tell him otherwise, those few who managed the courage to do so, but they had never come up with an excuse that amounted to more then that person having a problem rather then anything that was actually applicable to Manti. His appearance was a deterrent to troublemakers, a test of character for others, and, in Manti's own opinion, a completely gorgeous blend of leonine features that made him look like a stud. Not that he was bragging or anything.

"Yikes, I'd hate to imagine what it would be like to accidentally poison someone. That would be terrible!"

"Good thing people usually arn't dumb enough to go looking for trouble around me," he said, still grinning. Just about everything about him was a warning, bright red fur, shark teeth, lion appearance, and spikes. Only an idiot would willingly try to attack him, though he had known a few in his time. He didn't really rely on his poison much anyway, if it really came down to it, his teeth, claws and tail spikes were weapons enough. He didm't need to waste them on anything less then an emergency.

"My fire makes people sick but its not really dangerous, not like real fire. It's kind of my self defense mechanism."

"Ah, less fire breathing dragon, more really bad dragon breath," he teased. It was a habit between him and his friends to take friendly pokes at each other. He had been called porcupine and pussy cat plenty of times in good humor.

"Well, this is it. We've arrived."

Manti looked at the sign, "I would have called it 'The Wooden Nickel'," he said playfully, "a bit less 'captain obvious', a bit more humorous."

"I definitely mean totally awesome," Ambrosia agreed, matching his enthusiasm.  Just because large parts of the world took issue with the many shades of visible mutants, didn't mean she did.  It was refreshing, in fact, to meet someone who looked different who embraced that difference.  Of course, she embraced her own differences but it was often easier for her because she didn't scare people by looks alone.

"I'll bet they're not," she agreed.  "I'm thinking only really dumb people would bother you.  Or people with really big sticks."  She laughed and winked.  "More than once I've wished I could just growl and have unwanted bros hitting on me take a step back in fear.  But, you know how it is."  OK, so it had only happened a few times but that was more than enough.  Only once had she resorted to fire and, well, lets just say he'd never tried that again.

"The Wooden Nickel, that's a good one."  She walked in and chose a seat.  "So, just drinks or food as well?"  The prices for both were reasonable, one of the reasons she liked the place.

"More than once I've wished I could just growl and have unwanted bros hitting on me take a step back in fear. But, you know how it is."

"Oh yeah, I have ladies lining up the block for me." said Manti, continuing the humor, "True, most of them are crazy cat ladies, but hey, you know how that is."

Manti walked in with Amber, a few heads turning as the huge lion-like mutant blocked the light coming through the door. Manti was used to drawing attention upon an entrance, so paid it no mind.

"So, just drinks or food as well?"

"I just ate, but feel free to get something for yourself." said Manti, not wanting to bankrupt the girl. He could eat a ton, it honestly took a good deal to fill him up, which was to be expected by his size.

"Who doesn't like a sexy kitty?" she asked with a wink.  "I've had a crazy cat lady or two myself.  Something about the eyes and the tiny dragon seems to attract them.  I guess I'm a reptile cat?  Maybe?"  Or something.  Were dragons even reptiles, anyway?  She was warm blooded, after all.  Then again, were faerie dragons technically dragons?  For all she knew, she was half cat-half faerie and that's why she was so tiny and cute when she transformed.  All she was missing, really, was a bit of fuzz and some whiskers.

"How about something small then?  I'll get a light appetizer and you can feel free to have a bit if you want.  This is probably the most obvious question imaginable, but you're not a vegetarian, right?"  Sharing was caring, after all.

Within a few minutes the waitress arrived and she ordered herself a cider and some chicken wings.  "What did you want?"

"Or crazy cat ladies are witches in disguise," said Manti, sliding in the other side of the table, letting his leg lay across the seat. If he put them under the table, it would probably cramp his company. "And what witch wouldn't love a dragon familiar." He was enjoying himself, Ambrosia was a good bantering opponent. He was curious as to what she looked like as a dragon, but he imagined that it would probably not be a good idea for her to demonstrate here, as she would probably lose her clothes in the act. Maybe he wasn't a gentleman, but he wasn't that crass.

"You mean you aren't?!" said Manti in a mock tone of surprise, "How can you eat something with a face!?" he said, covering his eyes with his arm in a dramatic expression that was obviously over the top. He looked out from under his arm, with a laugh, "Well, I think my girlish figure gives me away," he said, still chuckling," but I have no problems with my fair share of greens." Honestly he could eat just about anything, he was immune to toxins, even raw meat wasn't a problem, so neither was vegetables or fruit, even poisonous ones. He had once mistakenly eaten poison hemlock out of a herbalist vendors cart thinking it was a wild carrot, almost giving the seller a heart attack, but had been completely unaffected.

Manti looked at the drinks menu, pondering over his choice of rums, liqueurs and spirits. Given his company, he saw something that he considered appropriate for the occasion, and ordered a cheap bottle of absinthe. Ordinarily he didn't go for heavy herbal flavors, but the idea of having a 'green fairy' in front of an elf/dragon was too tempting to pass up.

"Oh, of course they are," she agreed, as if it was so obvious it wasn't even worth the mention.  "You'd be surprised just how many witches in disguise there are."  Like herself, for example.  Not that she was really disguising anything, per say.  Well, also true that she probably wasn't the type of witch he was thinking of.  No green face or warty nose for her nor did she fly around on a broomstick.  Because, you know, flying around with your own wings was the way cooler option.  Hands down!

Ambrosia laughed at the big red guy's sense of humour.  He was a fun one to hang out with, no question.  "Elves might be plant eaters but dragons most certainly are not!  Even dragons of the tiny and adorable kind."  As a human, she couldn't exactly grin in intimidating fashion showing off the rows of pointed teeth she didn't presently possess, but she made gnashing motions with her mouth anyway.  Vicious and deadly faerie elf dragon witch that she secretly was and all that.  "Plants are nice and all that, but a full meal they do not make."

The waitress wrote down their orders and ran off to get their drinks.  "Interesting choice," she commented in reference to the absinthe.  She normally preferred to stay away from hard alcohol herself, unless it was mixed with various kinds of yummy fruit juices and sodas.

"You'd be surprised just how many witches in disguise there are."

"Too true," he responded lightheartedly. In all honesty it was easy to draw a parallel between mutants and witches, special powers, somewhat outcasts of society. Indeed, now that he thought about it, maybe mutants were the origin of witch stories to begin with, becoming the inspiration behind the myth. Of course if he went that route there was no telling how many myths and legends were actually based in reality with mutants as the center.

"Plants are nice and all that, but a full meal they do not make."

"But they do make a nice garnish," said Manti. He supposed that being both elf and dragon meant omnivore should have been obvious, though he wondered if that caused any conflict with her digestive system. Even if she had the same diet in either form, what happened to the food she ate when she shifted? Mutants had a lot of things about them that seemed to defy the laws of physics, though to be honest, that was the fun thing about them.

"Well, I no lightweight when it comes to drinks," he said to her comment about his drink choice. "In fact, I can't get drunk, part of my whole poison quill thing, toxins don't affect me." It was a simple explanation, he didn't know the whole process of how his body did it of course, but it was just one of the undeniable facts from observance that he couldn't get drunk no matter how much he drank, which meant he would never lose a drinking contest.

Ambrosia's mothers had both been witches and she believed it was their faiths that had lead to their unconditional acceptance of her own gifts.  She had been told that her gifts had been given to her by the great Earth Mother and as such should be celebrated and embraced.  Of course, being an elven faerie and a dragon, all revered as creatures of nature, probably helped the whole situation.  What would have happened if she had been changed into some kind of unnatural zombie or something?  Not exactly the same thing at all.  She shuddered to think.

"Nothing wrong with a little garnish," she spoke with a smile.  In truth, she liked fruits and vegetables, she just didn't consider them to be a full meal all by themselves.  As a dragon, she was primarily carnivorous but both her forms were technically omnivores.  She'd never had any trouble eating or digesting plant foods as a dragon, nor the reverse as a human.  Fortunately.  Otherwise eating could get very complicated.  
"I guess you're not.  I've got no such resistance so I try to be sensible about what I ingest."  At that time their drinks arrived along with their light appetizer.  She lifted up her drink for a cheers.  "To good times and new people."

"Very convenient when most of your friends hang out in bars," said Manti, "Having someone with a clear head comes in handy at the end of the night." Generally he was the designated driver come closing time if someone hadn't paced themselves properly. He didn't really mind that, never being drunk meant he got to enjoy some of the embarrassing displays others went through when they lost there inhibitions, and could break up anything that went overboard. The drinks arrived, a bottle of absinth with a small glass. He poured a cup, which to him was more like a shot glass.

"To good times and new friends," he said as he took his drink and gave cheers. He easily downed the glass, feeling the slight burn of the alcohol followed by the strong taste of anise and herbs.

"I'll bet it is," Ambrosia agreed.  She didn't need to worry much about having a designated driver herself, given the option of transforming and flying home, but that certainly didn't apply to most of her friends.  A slightly unsteady tiny dragon was rarely a threat to anyone aside from herself and it was rare for her to drink so much that she was uncomfortable with the prospect getting herself home.  Sometimes she could be a bit of a party girl, but this party girl preferred to party in moderation.  Hangovers sucked and that was the truth.

Accepting the cheers, she took a more modest drink from her own glass.  "I can tell you, some of the antics I've seen my less sensible friends get into have only served to reinforce my preference for moderation.  Maybe I'm just too responsible for my own good."  She laughed at the thought.   Some might say the exact opposite given the prohibition some seemed to have against the very idea of having fun.  How backwards was that, anyway?

"As responsible as miniature elf dragons get that is" teased Manti. As far as he had seen, mutants generally had this 'one of a kind' deal going on for most of them, which meant they set a standard for whatever it was they happened to be. So he was simultaneously the most responsible and most wreak-less 'Manticore' in the world, at least until some other mutant manifested the exact same powers, which seemed unlikely at best.

He poured himself another shot of absinth, "Oh don't worry, my friends have managed to find a way to get back at me for being able to remember everything they do under the influence," he chuckled thinking of his own unique variation of inebriation caused by catnip.

She laughed lightly at the teasing.  "Hey, I'm the only miniature elf dragon I know so I guess that makes me the most responsible elf dragon there is!"  Now that was some impeccable logic.  Who could possibly argue that little bit of truth?  "Just like I'll bet you're pretty much the most responsible giant red lion there is, am I right?"  She took a sip of her drink.  It certainly was interesting how no two mutants seemed to be exactly the same.  Someone who was much smarter than she probably knew the reason for that, from a genetics perspective.

"Oh?" she asked, raising a curious eyebrow.  In her experience, usually those most embarrassing of moments that you didn't want others remembering almost always had to do with the imbibing of alcohol and/or ect.  She was a raver.  She knew about these things.  

"My line of thought exactly," chuckled Manti as the elf dragon practically said his thoughts word for word. Seemed like they had a lot in common, at least in some mentality. It seemed she was enjoying this as much as he was, which made for some entertaining conversation. He knew a few of his friends would have been worn out at this point, so it was nice to find someone who could keep pace.

Manti laughed at the thought of his own embarrassing moment, "Turns out, I have a spot for catnip," he said, still snorting a little, "I would call it ironic, but I don't think that fits the definition," he added in jest. Irony tended to confuse him as far as it's proper use, though he was pretty sure that the fact that he looked like a feline species and was affected by catnip in a similar fashion meant it wasn't irony.