The mansion was a little too stressful these days what with all the fighting and damage control. There was one safe place left for Ghost in this town, the down town Public Library. If she was expected to finish this semester out in any way shape or form, she had to get out of there and visit the stone lions and Hogwartz-like study tables.

Last semester she was the paragon student, all A's and extra credit. This semester... not so much. Beyond the typical distractions of traitors, getting shot... twice, and the whole anniversary of familial tragedy thing, Ghost just wasn't able to keep ahead of her work this semester. Why she needed to know about British literature was beyond her, but she was slugging through some of Ye Olde English.

She mastered a second language, but a branch off of her original was somehow ... frustrating. Ghost blew out an unnaturally long sigh before running her fingers through her snowy white locks. If she had to read one more historical references that she had to cross reference her brain was going to explode. "Graah!" She dropped her hands and her pen bounced out from her grasp and skittered across the floor.

Ghost looked around a bit embarrassed by her outburst before she ducked under the table to chase after her pen.

It was soothing to be in surrounded by the familiar; since arriving in this brutish country he had felt a distinct lack of elegance around his person. The mouldy scent of old literature thrilled his senses as he moved casually between the many shelves that turned this building from a trove of knowledge to a labyrinth of delight.

Locating the curator had been rather bothersome, but now that she lay in ruins behind that Medium's shop he had little to worry about; her security password had granted him access to the original New York City blueprints, something he had been itching to inspect.

He toyed with the collar of his Armani blazer while nibbling on his lower lip; a poor habit he had when he was indulging his desire to read. A smile curved his lips accentuating his defined features; the drawings were safely tucked away once more.

As he passed by a parting in the book shelves his ghostly eyes came in contact with sweeping hair to match; the purest of white glimmered in his gaze, "White as the rabbit, dare I follow?"

Careful steps carried him around the antique table; the snowy girl held her head down in thought, shielding herself from his scrutiny.

"Why is it you plague your thoughts with that old nonsense," his charming smile formed to meet his accent.

"While knowledge is contained in these books it's all for nothing if you limit your experience. Forget this drivel and enjoy yourself" he grinned as he helped himself to a seat.

Ghost nabbed her pen and resettled into the solid wooden chair. Right. The sound of expensive shoes clapped against the marble floor, and keeping with library ritual, Ghost ducked and pretended not to see who was walking by. Usually they kept walking and then Ghost could relax and get on with the mundane task of -- "Why is it you plague your thoughts with that old nonsense,"

Ghost blinked up into a handsome face. The accent spoke of elsewhere and the charm was all kinds of refreshing. This man was wearing a suit that was cut so well that it looked more expensive than everything she owned topped with everything she'd earned this year. Naturally, she stammered. "It's uhm.. the Ruthwell Cross. For BritLit."

She ducked in a kind of habitual cringe. It was kind of embarrassing to admit her subject matter since his accent so obviously spoke of the Great Britain. Ghost's words spoke of living somewhere beyond the boarders of America as well, only, somewhere that poise, enunciation, and respect was important.

"While knowledge is contained in these books it's all for nothing if you limit your experience. Forget this drivel and enjoy yourself" He helped himself to a chair at her table. Talk about embarrassing. She looked around, but no one else seemed to understand the horror of it all.

"Are you suggesting I forgo my studies?" Ghost lay her pen in the crease of her book just in case he decided to get dramatic and close the dense volume. She didn't want to lose her place. "I can enjoy myself after the semester is over... Sir." The sir was a definite after thought.

Maynard's eyes momentarily fluttered shut as she referred to him as Sir, his appearance aside he was glad that she was unaware of his true age. His index finger caressed up the fine stubble of his chin while his thumb squared his jaw.

"The average person will fritter away half their life for mundane work; you never know when pleasure will become pain and the joy of life turns to sorrow" he paused and the tip of his tongue peaked out to wet his soft lips.

"What does a frigid vision of snowy divinity need to know British Literature for?" he raised an eyebrow while his free hand moved to brush the white strands of hair from her cheek to better expose her eyes.

"It doesn't do to dwell on the past and forget to live;" it was bothersome for him to keep his power at bay, but the slightest release of energy had an adverse affect on the moods of those around him.

"I'm new in town; perhaps you could be my guide" he paused for a moment while the darkness of his mind cleared to frame her portrait forever in his memory.

"I'll pay you handsomely for your indulgence; that is of course if you can pry yourself away from this text" there was a distinct shimmer in his blue eyes, it's meaning clouded by the handsome expression poised on his face.

"The average person will fritter away half their life for mundane work; you never know when pleasure will become pain and the joy of life turns to sorrow"
Ghost blinked. Did he just... stick his tongue out at her? Nah.. "Only half of my life? I should be so lucky." She picked up her pen again. Gloom and doom wasn't usually her thing, but recent circumstances had made Ghost reevaluate her usual optimism.

"What does a frigid vision of snowy divinity need to know British Literature for?" He actually invaded her personal space to brush back the shortish locks. She shied away from his touch. Nothing personal, but he was a stranger, they just met, and she didn't even afford friends or possible lovers that chance very often.

"It's called an undergraduate degree." Ghost arched her own brow back at the man. Frigid vision of snowy divinity? Man the Brits really laid it on thick, didn't they?

"It doesn't do to dwell on the past and forget to live;" She stopped and put the pen down. What? Was he reading her diary now? She slowly turned to face him again. Garrett's words about there being no chance meetings were ringing in her ears.

"Can I... help you?" or did he just like picking on people who were trying to study?

"I'm new in town; perhaps you could be my guide" She blinked up at him with brown doe eyes and let all of what had been said swirl around for a bit as she reconsidered. Ghost was a weak little girl. Easy pickings by any predator's radar, but her one advantage was that she always knew she could leave if things got bad.

"I'll pay you handsomely for your indulgence; that is of course if you can pry yourself away from this text"
Ghost sighed and closed the book. She wasn't getting very far anyway. It actually wasn't the money that enticed her, but rather the company. What an oddball, and yet... he had interesting things to say at least. "Fine, you win." She started to pack up as she spoke, "but I'll warn you now. I'm going home by midnight otherwise you'll have one unhappy pumpkin on your hands."

He wove his fingers together as she started to pack up her school things; his index fingertips tapped together while those frozen orbs watched with unwavering precision.

"I'd dare not keep you out so late," he retorted before standing up from his chair; he pushed it in gracefully and accidentally let a small spark of red energy leave his fingertip; hopefully she was to preoccupied to notice.

"What sorts of places sate the appetites of the young in this city?" teenage angst was the best place for him to spread his gift; they were such easy targets after all.

He took a deep breath as he turned away from the snowy haired girl, slow steps carrying him toward the Library entrance. His hands remained woven together as the familiar tick of his watch tickled his hearing while the clockwork of his thoughts began to turn.

"What is your name; you so remind me of the white rabbit" he paused and glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Are you familiar with Alice in Wonderland?" that familiar smile swept his features. "I'm following you on a whim, much as Alice did the rabbit; perhaps that's what I will call you, White Rabbit" he shook his head a moment before pushing the door open.

"Shall we?"

When mister Brit said that he wouldn't dare keep her out late, she practically had to bite her tongue from repeating herself. She'd be lucky if that guy wasn't a creepoid not that it mattered. Though when he stood, he got points for pushing in his chair. At least he cleaned up what little mess he made. She carefully indexed her things so that her papers would not wrinkle. She hated to see a good papers mangled.

"What sorts of places sate the appetites of the young in this city?"
"I don't normally eat in the city, too expensive except for the carts and uh -- I definitely don't recommend the hotdogs." She wrinkled her nose at the remembered taste of who knows what formed into a log and floating for who knows how long in a cart that has been who knows where. Entirely too many were mysteries involved in the process.

"If you want something exotic we can try a Japanese restaurant. I have passed a few that look worthy of patronage." She would know what would be authentic or even worthy of consumption due to her time living there. Japanese food was tasty.

Finally packed, Ghost fell into an easy pace beside the man. Mister Brit was so light on his feet that Ghost briefly entertained the thought that he might also be an air elemental. All her life people had told her that she had natural grace when she walked, like it was a kind of dance, but until she saw similar qualities in another person it was hard to understand.

"What is your name; you so remind me of the white rabbit..."
"Vega." wasn't her name, but it was the name she wrote on legal forms. "Haven't heard the rabbit thing before, though. Must be the hair."

"Are you familiar with Alice in Wonderland?" He smiled and it was glory. Like watching the moon rise or tracing the paths of the stars. Ghost just nodded mutely. She knew of Alice. She even knew a talking cheshire cat that went by the name of Calley. "I'm following you on a whim, much as Alice did the rabbit; perhaps that's what I will call you, White Rabbit"
"I suppose the action is mutual then, Mister..." the pause in conversation was a social cue where he was meant to supply his name. He hoped this flamboyant Brit knew at least that much of social conventions.

The doors opened and as usual a soft breath of fresh air was there to greet her. Tainted perhaps from the flavor of the city, but no less refreshing. "Shall we?"

She afforded him a small smile. "After you."

The radiance of the sun shone down upon them through the cracks between the massive buildings that hid the sky from his wandering eye. He had walked for several feet with his eyes completely closed, listening to the busy sounds of traffic and the absence of sound lingering between each step the girl at his side made.

"I suppose the action is mutual then, Mister..."

"Ashworth, bit I implore you to call me Maynard" his eyes opened at last and he regarded his company with a wistful grin.

He paid little mind to the fact that she had misunderstood his first query; he was in dire need of good cuisine, the other places could wait until they had both dined on the finest food the city had to offer.

"I do love exotic food, any suggestions?" as they reached the street corner a black limousine arrived, without pause in his poised step he opened the door and stepped aside so that Ghost might enter.

"After you, my dear" dazzlingly white teeth shone from behind his expression.

It was as spacious as one might assume inside; Maynard sat across from Ghost, his curious eyes examining her from top to bottom as though she were an intricate puzzle he had yet to piece together.

"Where do you attend school?" he asked at last; sitting back in his seat he rested one hand on his knee while the other lazily traced a line up the center of his shirt, caressing gently without being conscious of the fact.

"Should you decide on a restaurant just tell Nigel where to go," he flicked a switch to his left and the barrier separating the front seats slipped away.

Maynard Ashworth, a first and last name. That shouldn't have been that unusual to hear, and yet Ghost was surprised that the man gave up his name so simply. Perhaps she had spent too many months of living with paranoid mutants, and too little time in civilized company.

And talk about civilized company! She tried not to look too small town gawker as an actual limo pulled up next to the curb where they stood. Before she even had time to wonder who was getting out, Mister Maynard had the door in hand. Ghost had assumed they were walking. That's what she got for assuming anything about this man. She tried but failed miserably at keeping her mouth from hanging open.

He had offered her oodles of money, asked about fine dining, wore suits with cloth and cuts that were definitely some label that was hard to pronounce, and now... a limo. She was starting to see a pattern here.

"After you, my dear" He smiled another celestial smile so perfect and winsome. What defense did she have against such character? Ghost complied smoothing her skirt beneath her thighs and sliding into the supple leather. She settled herself around the bend in the seat and smoothed her skirt down again nervously. She felt tawdry around all this extravagance.

They sat in silence as Maynard settled himself and the doors were closed, but eventually the small talk began. "Where do you attend school?"
She opened her mouth to say 'the Mansion,' but realized that wasn't exactly true. "NYU," She amended herself. "I am studying Academic Administration, I think." She hadn't been to see her counselor in some time since she did her studies remotely online.

He mentioned needing a restaurant recommendation again, and Ghost set to thinking with new parameters. Where would she like to eat that she could never afford in her wildest dreams? "Masa. I don't know if you can just walk in or if a reservation is needed, though." Or if people like Maynard even needed reservations. "Or that guy from the Top Chef TV show has a restaurant called Craft around here somewhere."

It wasn't long before the limo arrived outside of the sushi restaurant; Maynard opened the door and stepped outside, holding it open so that his company could follow.

"Splendid choice," he whispered softly to hear ear as she stepped out of the car, the moist warmth of his breath teasing her flesh in another sensual invasion of her space.

The hostess was very accommodating; Maynard slipped her a small handful of bills and she conveniently located them an empty table. Once they were seated he requested a bottle of their finest sake.

"So you're studying Academic Administration?" his deep voice halted as he neatly placed his napkin in his lap.

"That sounds dreadfully boring I must say," he wondered briefly whether the company he shared was unique beyond the fact that she had frigid hair that captivated his attention.

"That doesn't seem like a very exciting career; a mutant could do far better I'd think" perhaps her answer would shed some light on the truth for him.

Maynard took the time to undo his cufflinks while he waited for her to answer, sliding his sleeves up slightly to expose the definition of his forearms and to keep his nice shirt from getting dirty.

"What appetizer would you suggest, Vega?"

When the bottle of sake arrived he poured two small cups of it; placing on in her hand his fingers gently brushed against her slender wrist as he withdrew. A smile etched over his picturesque features, while his icy eyes shone with radiance natural to his charm.

Maynard, ever the gentleman, opened the door. That definitely made it easier to escape the confines of the limo with some kind of grace and absolutely no slips of the skirt. Success on being as respectable as a flouncy skirt in a limo allowed. Bucket seats and skirts were mortal enemies after all.

"Splendid choice," he was hot and breathy in her ear and naturally her neck tensed. She brought up her shoulders, but it was only one sensual moment. And he was dancing right up to the hostess. She didn't know what he said, but they were seated immediately. At a nice table. Really close to the sushi chef. It was hard for Ghost to contain her excitement.

She was so busy watching the sushi chef spinning knives and plating glorious looking morsels that she didn't realize Maynard had ordered hot sake.

"So you're studying Academic Administration?" Maynard's resonant voice brought Ghost back from the knifey marvel of the sushi chef. She nodded politely affirming his query.

"That sounds dreadfully boring I must say,"
"It's actually nice to have something normal and mundane to come back to every now and again."

"That doesn't seem like a very exciting career; a mutant could do far better I'd think" She didn't even catch the mutant reference, it was common place to talk about it with people who already knew and he so casually slipped it in. It was a natural answer. "It doesn't have to be exciting. Just being a mutant comes with it's own measure of danger and excitement."

Ghost settled her own napkin into her lap before inspecting the menu. It was everything she hoped it would be and more. "What appetizer would you suggest, Vega?" Reading through the appetizers there were some name she understood and some more fancy things like... foie gras? whatever that was. "Traditionally sashimi is first. Or maybe soup and edamame that may be American tradition. 鮭 is good as is とろ sashimi." Fatty tuna was a special treat. Probably super special from such an acclaimed chef.

Maynard poured Ghost something and she nodded politely. She took the cup and tried to politely ignore his... caress? His fingers trailed right across the scars she had there from electricity burns thanks to the restraints of the internment camps for mutants. It made her suddenly aware of the fine, silvery scars. She'd nearly forgotten. "Why... are you entertaining me, Maynard?" It was the most polite way that she could think to ask what his intentions were.

He savoured the sweet aroma wafting up from his cup of sake; his mind worked to draw her scar by piecing together the sensations it had stirred when he caressed her flesh.

"Why are you entertaining me?" he retorted with a sly grin before swallowing back his drink; he took great care to pour his second cup slowly.

The waitress arrived, dressed in a traditional looking Kimono; "I do believe my guest will be ordering for us," he offered the waitress a wink which seemed to spark a smile on her face.

Once Ghost had placed their order and the waitress was out of earshot he turned his attention back on the snowy haired girl.

"Truth be told my purpose is without reason; drawn in by the beauty of mystery, forced to take action without thought of consequence" he leaned closer and spoke in a whisper.

"I'm entertaining you because my instincts told me to; it's been a long time since I found a mutant as striking as yourself" he swallowed another cup of sake.

"How often are you swept away by European men for a delicious meal?" Maynard smiled, "Don't dwell to much, I'm harmless; at least to you"

Ghost started to take a sip, but luckily breathed in enough to smell the alcohol. Sake by the smell of it. In America, she was a minor and legally not able to drink. She set the glass down with a small smile. Maybe in time she would taste it.

In answer to her question he only parroted and smiled, pouring his own second drink. Luckily the waitress showed before Ghost could get grumpy at him for dodging the question.

Ghost ordered everything she had mentioned before except the soup, fatty tuna and salmon sashimi and edamame. She ordered in fluent Japanese. The waitress 'oooh'ed and let her know that her accent was very good for a foreigner. Just as they always did. Ghost dipped her head in equal-semi bow. They wouldn't try and pass off anything now that they knew there was someone who knew the language now. She hoped they would get to meet the chef.

"Truth be told my purpose is without reason; drawn in by the beauty of mystery, forced to take action without thought of consequence" he leaned closer and spoke in a whisper. He was way all up ons enough that Ghost settled all the way against the back of her chair and hopefully out of easy reach. She smiled politely all the while.

"I'm entertaining you because my instincts told me to; it's been a long time since I found a mutant as striking as yourself" He sucked down the sake easily, and often. Should she be worried about that?
"Do you always follow your instincts, Mister Maynard? A simple slave to impulse?" Was that a jab? Oops. She didn't mean to. She just wanted to know what she was getting herself into as he drank more and more.

Wait. She did a mental review of their previous conversation and had to resist the urge to slap herself in the forehead. So she was a striking mutant, huh? She'd never regretted the hair as much as she was now.

"How often are you swept away by European men for a delicious meal?... Don't dwell to much, I'm harmless; at least to you"

"Because you have a vested interest in mutant kind?" Ghost kept her hands safely beneath the table out of caressing range or some other excuse he took to touch... or whisper. He liked whispering.

The tip of his index finger traced the thin rim of his cup as he took in her questions with a stoic expression. The glimmer in his eyes did well to mask the truth behind his movements; but still she was driven to dig.

"Our instincts are just as reliable as our knowledge; without the pair working together we'd be lost" he plucked the napkin from his lap and wiped the corner of his mouth.

"We must indulge our impulses from time to time; it's important that we don't settle into routine permanently" when the food arrived he scooped up a piece of tune with his chopsticks.

He chewed slowly and wiped his mouth again once; "Delicious, excellent choice."

Silence drifted between the pair, but he found little about it awkward. He listened to the silence as though it carried some secret only for his ears. His eyes narrowed as though he were trying to see into the depths of her being.

"I've an interest in those of us that have ascended beyond the norm; mutants are extremely unique, each one is a piece of divine poetry and it soothes me to learn more about my brethren" he took another piece of tune and savoured it.

"What is your power, Vega?"

"Our instincts are just as reliable as our knowledge; without the pair working together we'd be lost"

"Funny." Funny because her instincts seemed to be lacking. Which brought along the thought that perhaps they were failing her now as they usually did. Was she in danger? Oh! The food!

"We must indulge our impulses from time to time; it's important that we don't settle into routine permanently" Ghost had to pry her hungry eyes away from the beautiful display of raw fish. They sculpted it like flowers. It was cute.
"I don't know if it's possible to settle into routine." Ghost broke out her chopsticks. They were real wood and made the salmon just that much better. "Just when I think I have something down the world seems to turn upside down again."

And the tuna! The edamame was good too, but really it was the sashimi that was shining as was only right. Oh. It was so yummy. Could her taste buds be any happier at this moment in time?

"I've an interest in those of us that have ascended beyond the norm; mutants are extremely unique, each one is a piece of divine poetry and it soothes me to learn more about my brethren"
"I find you fascinating too." You know it was so much easier to get along with people when you had your pick of sashimi.

"What is your power, Vega?"
"What is your power, Mister Maynard?"