New York is a wonderfully diverse urban jungle. It’s status as one of the key commercial hubs in the civilized world allows it to cater to all manner of entities and individuals regardless of colour or creed and permits it to host a number of unique experiences which one would be hard pressed to replicate elsewhere. From scenic view of the statue of liberty to enthusiastic ambience of the Yankee stadium it was arguable that the streets of New York contained more golden opportunities than London ever did.

Having resided in the city now for a number of years Zephyr was well aware of the myriad prospects the city offered, indeed he had frequently turned seemingly random chance encounters to his advantage from his first initial meeting with his elemental counterpart in Central park, to his unexpected back alley confrontation with one of NY’s most infamous killers/model. It was something the hessian took a certain amount of satisfaction in and so he made a conscious effort to spend a certain amount of time wandering the city simply to see what could be found.

That was not to say he needlessly went looking for troublesome situations; there was little which would actually prove a threat to the azure eyed mercenary and even less since he’d managed to walk away from a collision with a certain jet. Instead the elemental preferred to think of his habitual wanderings as necessary excursions to keep himself in tune with the city and its rather prevalent underworld because sometimes, despite all the leaps and advantages of technology some things were simply better done in person.

Passing by through times square Zephyr likely would have made a curious sight had anyone cared or been able to pick him out from the crowd, with his gaze focused solely on the spiral phrasebook in his hand the elemental idly weaved in and out those around him without apparent thought as his lips moved silently in an effort to form unfamiliar lexemes. There was an old acquaintance he’d been meaning to catch up with in Chinatown and though he was far from fluent in the language the discussion would likely go somewhat smoother if he could at least give a decent greeting.

A flash of red hair bobbed across the street.

It couldn’t be.

It was tied up in a loose ponytail in deference to the usual New York urban heat; a few loose strands had been left artistically loose to curl at the sides of her freckled face. She wasn’t really a fan of the freckles, but she wasn’t going anywhere important enough to try and cover them with makeup. At least, she hadn’t been.

The bob of hair crossed the street, just another member of the city’s multitude.

No way.

She hadn’t been planning to meet anyone, either. Besides her brother: they’d had lunch. B.T.Dubs: lunch with your thirty-something brother, down the street from his paper supply company, did not warrant dressing up. The opposite, in fact. Oh, Clark. Why must your department be full of men older than you, and even less socially adept? Where, pray tell, where the sweet young interns?

Maybe.

She was wearing rose-colored glasses in round gold frames; just glass, of course. A My Little Pony T-shirt, and a pair of jeans. Her purse was eccentrically covered in a paperclip mesh, and her sandals had fake jewels on the straps. They were very comfortable, thank you, and made for quiet walking. Not that the gentleman she’d stopped seemed to be noticing much of anyone, or that he would have noticed one set of footsteps over the city’s hubbub, anyway.

Not that anyone was worth much notice, to this particular gentleman. Or had he reserved that attitude for her? So hard to tell.

Turns out that brown-haired, blue-eyed Brits weren’t all that easy to track down. Especially without a photo (hotel security had been awfully unobliging, thanks), or a name (he himself and ego had been the unobliging ones, there).

Really, she’d gotten used to the idea of never knowing who he was. Other fish in the sea, bigger fish to fry, and all that. Until she’d caught a glimpse in the crowd from across the street, and something had snagged her attention.

It wasn’t the hair. As soft and finger-inviting as that looked, it was pretty standard. It wasn’t the eyes. She couldn’t even see them from that distance, never mind that he had them glued on his little gadget, there, oblivious to the rest of humanity. No. It was more… more…

More the way that he differed from his path for other walkers without looking up, but with just the slightest hint—a sprinkle, a dash—of inconvenience.

More the way his shoulders were confident they were the best shoulders in the world; they hadn’t even thought about it, because there wasn’t any question.

More… him.

The red head had a good memory for men, happenings in hotel rooms, and dirty deeds. Wrap all three together, and she had a very clear recollection the eloquent twat who’d managed to get the singer Lauren Olos framed for drug use. And rather excessive drug use, at that.

She could have told the police what she’d seen that night, made them look at the tapes a bit harder. Could have.

But it was her story. The public would love Ms. Olos even more, if a new witness (Maxine, of course, had to keep her sources anonymous) came forward, along with evidence that she’d been their innocent idol all along. And if a certain newly minted reporter were to bask in the reflected good will, well… she would make sure to look humble in her photos.

All she had needed was a whisper; a hint. A trail that she could follow to a major break: the key suspect.

Maxine Rawls, Wolf News. Currently stalking a Brit. Good thing he was the only one in the world: it made it that much less likely that he’d notice her speck of existence, trailing an innocuous few yards behind.

One of the key benefits that Zephyr rarely shared regarding his mutation was his spatial awareness; the ability to perceive his element beyond simple line of sight and, by extension, everything that displaced it. In short it granted the hessian a somewhat dull but accurate form of 360◦ vision which operated independently of natural sight and often proved to be rather more reliable.

Such a skill admittedly had numerous potential uses but, more and more frequently, the hessian found himself using it merely as a multitasking aid and this was perhaps most clearly demonstrated as he deftly drifted through the crowded sidewalks, easily sidestepping and pivoting around errant children and careless adults without once raising his eyes from the lines of enigmatic text in his book.

Oriental languages had always been somewhat troublesome for the hazel haired elemental; the differing forms of address, the inherent redundancy in having a male and female term for almost everything and the unmemorable and near indecipherable characters made learning the eastern languages exponentially more difficult than the European ones he’d learned thus far.

In all honesty what he truly needed were proper classes, a chance to immerse himself in the dialect and force his mind to process the language to exclusion of all else, he’d done similarly to master both French and Russian; spending months at a time in each respective country until he was capable of carrying on a coherent conversation. Unfortunately he couldn’t currently afford anything more than a cursory sojourn outside of the US and the city’s local Chinese community tended to be rather close knit and somewhat xenophobic. A tutor was possibility but given his… unpredictable schedule, it was uncertain he’d ever manage to keep appointments.

In all honesty, it almost wasn’t worth the trouble.

However if memorizing a few pointless syllables would let him avoid Yan’s deliberately poor engrish then it was a small price to pay in order to get an update on the Triads limited, yet profitable operations in the city. The hardest part would be tracking the old man down. He always professed to be staying with ‘family’ despite the fact that it was different ‘family’ on almost every occasion. Either Yan didn’t care for such pretenses when conversing with business acquaintances, or his fecundity put Genghis Khan to shame. In either case it was only a mild annoyance, the old man never stayed too far from a drug den and despite the size of Chinatown there were only so many places you could hide such an enterprise.

Nonchalantly skirting past an inconveniently located stall conveying over priced apparel to ignorant tourists Zephyr quietly slipped down a narrow side street which was all but empty and sufficiently shaded by the buildings on either side that further reading would have been something of a lost cause and so with a slight sigh the hessian placed his book back in his jacket pocket and attempted to keep the few simple phrases he’d been reading at the front of his mind.

At least, that had been his intention until his spatial awareness took notice of someone else duck down the street after him. It was quite painfully obvious to the elemental really; body language can say a good deal, even more when people don’t think they were being watched. In this instance his hopeless pursuer made things rather easy by peeking at his back from behind a pile of discarded cardboard boxes. In all honesty if Zephyr had been anyone else the girl likely wouldn’t have been spotted (and it was a girl, the hessian could tell that even without conjuring a breeze), as it was though she’d been spotted and now the elemental had to decide what to do about her.

The immediate answer was obvious, loose her.

That was exactly what he attempted to do as left the side street and entered into Chinatown proper, quickly stepping off to the side and taking refuge within a somewhat moth eaten second hand clothes shop which afforded him a fair view of the side street he’d just left, curious despite himself about precisely whom he’d attracted.

Chinatown? Really? What was this, a spy movie? Was she going to trail him to a secret meeting of the Chinese Godfather? Bleh. She liked to keep the clichés off her show. She could always glam it up later.

He better not just be here for the dumplings, though.

Maxine skirted around a newspaper stand, in writing she couldn’t read—

--and leapt behind a pile of boxes as a twine-bundled stack of the morning edition rustled quietly next to her leg. She’d have kicked it, but that might have attracted attention. More attention than a red head in Chinatown, glaring down a stack of paper. She smiled at the shop owner with irradiating levels of brightness, and peered around the boxes. Had Little Boy Brit noticed?

No, ladies and gentleman, he had not. Still dodging the rest of humanity like a nimble little mountain goat, he turned a street into Chinatown proper. She gave him a few seconds lead, and followed.

Of course, that was plenty of time to loose him. Lovely. Well she couldn’t just stand in the middle of the street and stare around. The red head casually took herself out of the mainstream, slipping in at a sunglasses rack outside of a gritty little second-hand clothes place. She slipped her own rose colored lenses off, and tucked them into the neckline of her shirt. Between a pair of sunglasses and the dingy mirror on this rack, a sweet little tourist gal like herself had plenty of reason to turn her head this way and that. These were actually kind of cute. Also, she didn’t see him on the street. Had he already ducked in somewhere? Boo.

So: run around like an idiot, giving herself away to a potentially dangerous mutant criminal in an area that no one knew she’d gone? Or go inside, pay for her purchase, and hit the streets for some calm question-asking later tonight? Or maybe set up camp at a cafe out on the main street, and hope to spot him on his way out. Maxine plucked another pair off the rack: they were two for five. Special! Only today!

A little bell chimed over her head as she stepped inside, her eyes casually scanning the racks. A girl could pick up some cute things, at these places.

One of the most notable features of Chinatown, aside from its mephitic odor, was the diverse range of people it attracted. Although residents themselves were largely of Asian ethnicity, the cleaner and more hospitable streets drew a fair number of tourists and NYC locals, especially on a Friday afternoon when people were just beginning to release themselves from work and welcome the coming weekend.

As a result, Zephyr was likely one of the few individuals to notice the lissome redhead exiting the darkened alley and merging almost seamlessly with the throng of people lining the street. He’d not been able to catch much of her face before she’d entered the crowd, covered as it was by a pair of oversized sunglasses. Still, he could tell she was far from old and more than young and if her attire were any indication she was likely college age or thereabouts. While this was agreeable, the fact remained that she had pursued him down a dark alley and was now waiting just outside his current refuge and unobtrusively scanning the surrounding street.

This had the potential to become quite troublesome; the last thing he needed at the present, or any moment in time, was a stalker. She needed to be dealt with, yet Chinatown was notoriously crowded and it was unlikely he’d be able to do anything more than give her a stern lecture which would more than likely solve absolutely nothing. Better then to take his leave while he still appeared to be unnoticed, the shop would have a back door and from the connecting alley he could make his way to the roofs and carry onward form there.

If she somehow managed to make it to the roofs as well… he’d deal with that if it actually happened. No need to consider ruining a pretty face unless he absolutely had to.

Turning the elemental began to make his way to the back of the store, carelessly shifting aside clothing racks as he swept behind the counter and around the owner with nothing more than a false smile and a meaningless greeting. Then, he felt the brush of air as the front entrance opened and a brief glance over his shoulder confirmed what he already knew as he stared into wide emerald eyes, only to blink as he recognized his apparent stalker.

He smirked.

Without a word he ducked out the backdoor and as soon as it had closed behind him a silent gust of wind swept him up to the roof where he waited and tried to recall everything he could about one Maxine Ralls.

It was a hunt-and-kill response. A prey running response. She couldn’t help it: azure eyes met hers, a little smirk tucked itself under them, and then he ducked out the back door.

Following was stupid, for so very many reasons. She just hadn’t managed to think of any before she’d sprinted out the door close behind him. When she stepped out into the lonesome little alley, though, all she got for her troubles was a gusty slap to the face. No blue eyes; no smirk. No Brit.

Or, to look at things another way: no Brit she could see. That, right there, was not a recipe for vice-versa. Smart little girls took this opportunity to turn around, and head back into the shop.

Smart little girls didn’t make the news.

Maxine glanced studiously up, down, and all around—as expected, she didn’t see any particular trace of her fellow mutant. Her fellow mutant with the unknown power. She could still—

Nah.

The red head leaned casually against the alleyway wall, a smirk of her own in place just in case a certain someone was watching. She opened up her purse (wiping aside a few tentacles as she did so; they writhed in the air as she rummaged). Out came three pens: black, red, and green. Poe, Polly, and Zim. Respectively.

“Be a dear?” She asked them sweetly, for the benefit of any listeners. To the pens themselves, she added, Fly around a bit. Make a show of searching. As it turns out, ‘find a brown-haired young Bristish gentleman’ was a bit too complex of a command; as far as she could tell, people looked mostly the same to the song pens. But they could sure look like they were trying.

“Be sure not to hurt him,” she added angelically. “I just want to talk.”

Most have heard the trite aphorism regarding the wide variety yet poor selection of entertainment available on American television. It is perhaps most readily compared to an age old axiom regarding a needle and haystack. Occasionally though, among the dull detritus of mundane American entertainment rare gems could be found in the unlikeliest of places.

Wolf news had one such gem, a program which had risen rather sharply prominence as a result of a recent segment featuring the city’s resident bonemancer and reluctant amateur Sapphic star/model. The episode had made headlines and more than a few had speculated that the show’s host wouldn’t live to see her next installment, yet more than two weeks on and the cheerfully sardonic redhead was still making ratings for her station and if anything had somehow become even more unbearably smug then she’d been previously.

For all the attention she’d gained over ‘summer special’ however very little was actually available regarding Maxine Ralls beyond contact and employment information. She’d recently been promoted before her summer special and had her segment time doubled, she produced an… interesting, variety of products related to her show and had a penchant for donating a portion of her sales to charity. She was also a known mutant though the precise nature of her abilities was unknown beyond the fact that it seemed to affect stationary.

Last but not least, she apparently had a bad habit of wandering where she wasn’t wanted, and annoying people who would really be better left alone, though in retrospect Zephyr would admit that this was likely true of all reporters who were in essence, paid prod noses. Still as the age old adage went, turn around was fair play. Yan could wait for another day, this was an opportunity he couldn’t delay. The only question was how much should she pay?

Standing edge of the building Zephyr returned his small bottle of painkillers to his jacket pocket and resumed watching the door below him expectantly as he finished reviewing what little he knew of his scarlet haired stalker. The girl had caused him a fair amount of annoyance in the past, and though he’d done anything about her at the time, this was indeed too good of an opportunity to pass up. His smirk grew faintly as he watched the girl burst into the back alley and rapidly turned her head back in forth as she sought him out, glancing up but somehow failing to spot him.

Being chased was a novel experience for the elemental, far more often the roles were reversed, though he couldn’t say he disliked the switch he wasn’t entirely certain how to proceed. He had no idea why he’d garnered the Miss Ralls attention, and in truth didn’t really care, however he could see a certain appeal in letting the girl run herself ragged. Granted it would be a puerile pursuit but, indulging ones inner child from time to time was only healthy. He just needed to get her attention.

As he was contemplating the amount of discomfort a discarded coin could generate from his current height the hessians ponderings were interrupted when his follower withdrew and released several colourful pens which rose through the air and generated an odd sense of déjà vu for the mercenary as they eventually came to halt in a hovering circle. He’d seen this little trick before and knew how to deal with such minor irritants. A mild breeze was all it took sweep the trio of pens within arm’s reach and a deft flick of the wrist resulted in a crimson pen twirling idly between the elementals fingers even as the other two promptly retreated, followed by a whispered current of air which trailed down to the redhead ears.

“Catch me if you can.” The words conveyed both amusement and condescension as the elemental began to make his way across the nearest adjacent roof.

Had he just… taken her pen hostage? Poe and Zim, black and green, came racing back down to her: she didn’t need to see them to know which pen was still up there, though. Right up there, directly above, and just at the edge of her range. He’d used his powers to bully their flight trajectories, just like the other time she’d crossed paths with him. And he’d gotten onto the rooftop in the time it took her to get to the door.

Not teleportation, not flight, and not a super jumper. Wind or telekinesis?

Given the hot air that tickled at her ear, she was willing to bet wind. As it turns out, she had nothing much in her arsenal to counter a wind user.

Yeah. And what power couldn’t she say that for?

With nothing new there, Maxine accepted his challenge. First order of business: she ducked inside the shop, and paid for her sunglasses. Then she stepped back out on the well-lit, well-traveled side of these buildings.

In the air above, the man was still holding Polly. He was out of her range now. But it didn’t take a specific range for Poe to see a guy hopping around rooftops with his flock mate in tow. Poe followed Polly, Zim followed Poe, and Maxine bought a Hello Kitty pen at a shop down the street to stay in her range and keep tabs on Zim.

What, had he expected her to try climbing up after him? Chase him through back alleyways?

The red head kept up her stroll through Chinatown, a pair of Channel shades on her face. The Gucchi logo on the side really made them.

Continuing his indolent pace across the stretch of rooftops Zephyr pondered his next as he kept track of both the seemingly sentient pens behind him, and trailing redhead below. The elemental had hoped the girl might try the fire escapes in an effort to reach the roofs; it would have made things rather more entertaining. Sadly though Miss Ralls apparently possessed the rare resource of common sense and seemed perfectly content to continue her chase at street level.

All things considered though, it was only a minor disappointment; she was following him and so he effectively had her on a leash. All he needed now was a suitable destination yet such a thing was proving more difficult than he had originally anticipated. He had no current intention of killing her and as she was a reporter he couldn’t afford to introduce her to anything too unsavory if he wanted to make use of certain resources in the future.

Reaching the end of the current stretch of rooftops the elemental paused for a moment to consider his hovering retinue, he had no way of telling what they could or could not discern but whatever the case he wasn’t yet willing to advertise his incorporeal state and a quick glance through the scaffolding attached to the building face revealed a steady stream of individuals below who would be all but guaranteed to notice him if he attempted to cross open air, thus ruling out that avenue.

Then someone screamed.

There are varying degrees of severity to a human scream, ranging from the inebriated alcoholic losing their balance, all the way to the wail of terror a mother issues when her children are in danger. This particular scream possessed the impressive pitch one typically associated with young girls but seemed to be one of surprise rather than fear but was quickly echoed by others on as a flurry of metal abruptly darted out of the door beneath the elementals feet and down the street. A second, more colorful wave soon followed with even more vigor before Zephyr managed to crane his neck sufficiently to spot the logo under the scaffolding of the store beneath him.

It was a Staples.

((OOC: Dreadfully unoriginal I know, but we don’t have to spend much time with it and I couldn’t think of anything else.))

She sensed the store coming, of course. An office supply depot was to Maxine what a spontaneously formed tornado was to Zephyr: it hit her senses like a flashing neon sign. Thankfully, the back to school supplies were at the front of the shop: that didn’t include printer paper. Small blessings. That did include a tidy little stack of paperclips, though. Those palm-sized boxes of a hundred didn’t look like much, until thirty of them burst into the air. The traditional silver ones flashed through the air like a large school of minnows; the gap under the door was plenty big enough for them to find their freedom, once a little mental nudge tipped off the leaders that it was there. A smaller group of colored clips, like tropical fish, came close behind. They swam a wide loop around Maxine; she offered a shameless shrug to the people who stopped to stare. Given that they were on a crowded New York street… she took off her sunglasses, and smiled for the tourist cameras.

“Maxine Rawls, Wolf News. Every Friday at 9/10 Central time.” She pulled out a business card; one of the minnows, under her command, clipped it up and struggled to stay aloft on its way back to the store. There were directions on where to send the bill in the fine print.

When a girl didn’t have an ‘off’ switch on her power, she had to get creative. Especially when most stores would rather that she didn’t come in to pay.

With a last little grin, and a thorough working of that My Little Pony shirt for a Japanese couple with an old-school film camera, she tipped her gaze to the roof of a certain building.

About three and a half pounds of paperclips wasn’t a game changer. But it sure gave a gal that special little confidence boost.

The red head flicked out another card, and called down Zim for some actual writing. The scribbling was quick; then the card was tucked under its cap, and the green pen was sent flying back as her ambassador to where the elemental stood.

Coffee?

The green writing offered, as the red head smirked a challenge upwards.

Looking down at the tawdry spectacle below Zephyr resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he briefly watched the lithe redhead pose for the small crowd her talents had gathered. The elemental couldn't honestly say he was surprised; her profession essentially required, if not a love for attention, at least lack of aversion to it. Still, it would have made things rather more interesting if the soubrette hadn't shown to enjoy the spotlight quite so much.

Regardless of the girls preferences though Zephyr had little intention of indulging her puerile performance by becoming just another member of her impromptu audience. That would make things too easy for her by far, which was why he'd made his way down to the Staples loading bay the moment he'd seen Miss Ralls attention drift moved elsewhere. Annoyingly though it seemed as though the gamines animated pens were capable of acting independently of their creator as they continued to hover behind him regardless of the redheads focus.

Without slowing his pace the hessian glanced down at red pen spinning through his fingers, the thing had become all but lifeless as soon as he'd caught it. The moment he relaxed his grasp however the instrument stirred to life, yet made no overt attempt to escape leading the elemental to suspect that it acted as a beacon of sorts for the other pens trailing behind him. This in and of itself wasn't a problem just yet, he had no intention of losing his overly inquisitive stalker quite so early in the game.

Still though, if she wanted a snow ball's chance in summer of keeping up with him she'd need have to keep her adoring audience at bay. She was after all here for his entertainment, not her-

Coming to an abrupt halt at the entrance to main street Zephyr's thoughts paused as he blinked at the viridian pen darting back and forth in front of his face. The elemental had already raised his arm to swat the thing from air before he noticed the card under its cap and instead adjusted the motion to snatch the card from its messenger and bring it to a readable distance.

Coffee?

Zephyr raised a brow before flicking the card to the ground and stepping out to merge with crowd. The girl was brazen he'd give her that, it was probably an attitude which served her well in her job, especially if her weekly segment was any indication. Miss Ralls was deeply mistaken though if she thought he'd deign to treat her to coffee; a vile drink at the nest of times.

Clearly the gamine needed an education in proper refreshments, however the nearest acceptable bistro was some ways away. Still, that would only make her appreciate it her all the more, she'd need to pick up the pace first though.

Focusing on the redheads location the elemental once again directed his words for the soubrettes ears alone as he began to make his way to the outskirts of China town.

"Do try to keep up Miss Ralls, you're falling behind."

No coffee? The Brit was probably more of a tea man, anyway. How very inconsiderate of her. And oh dear, her pace was too slow for him?

How very interesting that he cared.

He seemed to be back on street level, too. The green pen had returned, entirely proud of its card-delivering success. She gave it scritch behind the cap, and gave it another card to carry. The pens were actually harder to see, now: they were just a few feet above the crowd, caught up in the glitz of signs and forefronts, instead of silhouetted clearly against the sky. She trusted in Hello Kitty to keep her pointed the right direction. As for the colorful school of paperclips she’d so recently acquired: she tried to shoo them up in the air about fifteen feet. It was amazing how few people looked up: it was mostly the other side of the street that actually noticed them, once they were past the crowd she’d posed for.

As for his imperious order to hurry, carried on the winds: well, these sandals really weren’t meant for gallivanting all over the city, and it was such a toasty day. He couldn’t expect a lady to get all in a sweat on his account. Especially not without a ‘please.’

The green pen delivered his second message with even more enthusiasm:

Fan of the show? The business card read. I’ll get you an autograph.

He knew her name. How sweet.

Keeping his own pace brisk as he wandered down the less clustered side on the outside of Chinatown Zephyr reflected, momentarily, on Miss Ralls. The redhead was proving to be a rather contrary character; given that she had been the one to initiate this somewhat diverting scenario by trailing him for who knew how long, her insistence on keeping to her own leisurely pace was a rather apt demonstration of cognitive dissonance.

It was also fairly annoying.

It didn't take much in the way of effort to infer the reasoning behind the girls actions, especially considering what was known about her. The gamine likely believed she had some degree of control over the situation since her presence had been acknowledged rather than dismissed and thus could afford to dawdle as she pleased. It was a somewhat reasonable assumption to make yet still a gamble in certain respects because the girl had to know to some degree that it would cost the hessian nothing to abandon their odd game if he grew bored with her recalcitrant behavior.

As things were though, she was fortunate that he took it as a challenge.

Deftly catching another of the redheads pens as it attempted to dart in front of his face the elemental idly relieved the animate instrument of its message before reading the contents and rolling his eyes . The soubrette certainly wasn't lacking for confidence it seemed, though a part of the hessian could only wonder how long such an attitude would persist if she happened to meet the city's resident bonemancer.

Dismissing such thoughts from his mind as he spotted the sign he'd been seeking for the past minute or so Zephyr released the green pen and began to make his way towards the descending stairs of the subway as he sent another whispered current to the emerald eyes gamine.

"One thing at a time Miss Ralls. I'd suggest you hurry before you miss the train, and do try to be discreet about your gift."

Interesting and unconventional as Miss Ralls mutation was, it garnered rather more attention than the elemental liked . If the girl wished to keep following him and avoid causing a panic or just general ill will while underground she'd have to apply some subtlety to her talent.

Train?

Aww, sh—

The red head tucked her purse in close, and ran.

It wasn’t the scramble of a panicked little girl, and it wasn’t a huffing-puffing out-of-breath dash. Maxine had spent every morning since puberty dragging herself out of bed at ungodly hours to go jogging. She knew how to run, and she knew how to run fast, when she needed to.

S*** s*** s*** s***--

Of course, how much that helped depended entirely on how serious he was being. Maxine turned a corner, and spied Zim waiting for her at the top of a flight of stairs. She bounded down to the landing, ordering about half of the paperclip school into the mouth of her purse as she went. Rex nabbed a latecomer, absorbing the lone clip into its own mass as she flipped the purse closed. The ones who didn’t fit, she nudged to the outer edge of her range. They never knew what happened: one moment they were animate, mildly sentient—the next, they were raining on the stairs behind her as dead weight.

—s*** s*** hate him s***--

She reached the landing in record time, took in a deep breath, and let it out. Dignity: back. A train thump-thump-thumped by the platform, kicking up a breeze that fluttered through her hair.

Coming, or going?

She cast her eyes around for Poe, and a certain set of blue eyes.

Nonchalantly twirling a certain appropriated crimson pen between his slender fingers Zephyr allowed a hint of a smirk to tug at his lips as he felt his redheaded soubrette break into a mad dash for the station the moment she registered his words. Petty though it was the elemental couldn’t deny a sense of satisfaction from instilling a sense of urgency in the gamine and thus gaining her likely reluctant compliance as a result.

To Ms. Ralls credit she proved far quicker than the hessian had anticipated and turned more than a few heads as she ran by. As it was she reached the platform proper just as one of the trains pulled away into the darkness of a tunnel causing the lissome reporter to swiftly cast her head back and forth in such a manner that the elemental could easily picture the expression painted across her agreeable features as she searched for him.

As he had not been in any particular rush to end their peculiar game of follow the leader Zephyr had taken the earlier opportunity to place himself directly behind the stairs the redhead had so fervently raced down thus putting outside her immediate view. Granted it was little more than a delaying tactic but hessian still had no real desire to make things easy for the girl; watcher her rush around was far more entertaining.

Still though, there were only so many places he could hide in such a confined space, if she didn’t get discouraged the gamine was bound to spot him eventually. It would be better to give her a nudge rather than allowing the girl to mislead herself into thinking she’d somehow managed to trump him. The only real question was how to arrange their approach.

By mere happenstance the elementals thoughts were interrupted at that point by the arrival of the train he’d been expecting. Once the grinding dissonance of its arrival had faded away and its passengers given a chance to disembark Zephyr pushed himself off the back wall of the stairs, withdrawing his spiral bound phrasebook once again as he began to stroll around to the office animators right and sent her yet another hushed statement through the wind.

“You were faster than I expected… you’ll want the train to central park, it’s on your left.”

His tone was amused yet also courteous and as the redheads turned to glance at the aforementioned train he walked around from behind her and idly brushed shoulders with her as he strode by, a final comment coming over his shoulder as he strode by.

“Do come along.”