((ooc: “her agreeable features”? <3))

She knew he was coming, but that didn’t stop her from giving a little jump as shoulder kissed shoulder.

>> “Do come along.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” The red head smiled, recovering smoothly. Smoothly enough to slip in next to his side, and twine her arm through his. Just a girl and a boy, arm-in-arm. What could be more natural?

She’d known he was coming, because he still had Polly. And Poe had been flying over his head, as he’d lurked behind the stairs. And Zim had been sitting above her ear, its green cap making plastic-on-plastic cheeps as it tried to get her to turn around.

He was behind her: then he was coming right towards her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear with a gentle breeze.

Really, such a flirt. She let him have his game: no need for him to know that she could tell exactly where her pens were. Really, no need at all.

At this time of day, there wasn’t much by way of seating on the subway. Maxine didn’t bother reaching for any of the poles or hand-holds, either; why would she, when she had Windy’s arm? She peered down at his little book. His little phrasebook, to be specific.

“Chinese?” She commented, eyelashes batting with utter innocence. “I do hope I didn’t interrupt some sort of prior business engagement.”

The train started moving with a jolt: Maxine took that as her cue to fall in a little closer. She shamelessly offered him the hand that wasn’t currently kidnapping his arm.

“Maxine Ralls. A pleasure to meet you again, Mister…?”

There were few things which could put Zephyr off his stride, a rare upside of his somewhat dysfunctional upbringing which had been further refined by his occupation. Being able to project an affectation of confidence or apathy could go a long ways with certain employers, or even opponents and so controlling ones mien was essential. The hessian had managed to face down homicidal bonemancers, unpredictable pyromancers and crimson juggernauts while barely even blinking.

Needless to say, a svelte young redhead unexpectedly taking his arm like a fresh paramour registered little more than a raised eyebrow as he glanced down at the gamine, only to be met with a shameless smile as the two of them made their way to the train and eventually found a place within the crowded carriage where the hessian could use his free hand to reach a pole running across the ceiling before the train began to pull away.

In all honestly he shouldn't have been surprised, the girl was well known for her sardonic streak but also for her brazen demeanor and occasionally exiguous attire. She was likely well used to playing such games to put others off balance in order to get her way. Still Zephyr was hardy a dilettante in such matters, she'd have to do much better if she wished to... distract, him.

“Chinese?”[/color] The question was offered in a saccharine cadence and accompanied with a brief flutter of eye lashes before she took the rocking of the carriage as an excuse to slip even closer and rest her head against his chest whilst pressing her breasts against his arm. “I do hope I didn’t interrupt some sort of prior business engagement.”[/color]

It seemed the soubrette was quite intent on doing her best to gain his attention and while there was a certain appeal in seeing how far the girl was willing to go, a part of him was still cautious given that she'd been trying to spy on him earlier. However yet another facet of the elementals thoughts argued that she'd be doing rather little of that if he turned the tables on her current game and actually started participating.

"Mandarin to be specific," he returned urbanely, barely giving her a glance as he used his thumb to flick to another page. "I find most vendors in Chinatown tend to be more, hospitable, if you can share their tongue in some way, though I suppose that's true for everyone, wouldn't you agree?" He shifted his gaze to her and once again gave a questioning look which this time was vaguely amused.


“Maxine Ralls. A pleasure to meet you again, Mister…?”[/color] The introduction came with a second question and hand which Zephyr simply stared at it for a moment before giving the girl herself a dubiously amused glance and indicating towards his raised which was keeping the two of them steady as the train rattled along.

"Dio will do." He replied in the same urbane cadence, before allowing the slight hint of a suggestive undertone to enter his voice as he held her gaze. "I would shake hands but I'm afraid they're somewhat tied at the moment, unless of course you'd prefer to be on your back?"

Azure eyes, a British accent, and double entendres. She must have been a good girl lately: it wasn’t even Christmas, but already Santa was putting out.

“Dio, Dio.” She met that blue gaze with a smirk that reached her own eyes. “For a man who lets himself get tied up, I really expected more… flexibility.”

She easily angled her own arm to shake the hand she held captive. It was a firm, completely professional shake, never mind the rest of her.

“So where are we headed, Dio dear?”

That name was so cute. Fake, most assuredly: but cute.

“Dio, Dio. For a man who lets himself get tied up, I really expected more… flexibility.”

Well well, if that particular grin were any indication then the girl seemed quite eager for a prurient verbal spar. While no stranger himself to the subtle libertine elements of language, it had been sometime since he had found someone willing, capable and agreeable enough to engage in such a game. Given that the redheads occupation was, in some ways, a constant study of the English language, it would be fair to say that she had the potential to be a most interesting partner.

The difficulty in games such as these lay in trying to avoid making ones response overly crass. It had be innocuous at first, and ideally even second glance so that only those who wanted or expected an ulterior meaning would find anything. It wasn't always easy, and Zephyr would, privately, admit that there had been times when his performance had been less than stellar, but the challenge was simply part of the fun.

"Versatility is a virtue"he agreed easily . "However I've found that staying firm can also have its advantages, wouldn't you say?" The elementals features were still vaguely amused as he again raised an eyebrow at the soubrettes open smirk before then accepting her hand even as she once again snuggled against him.

Odd really, one would think the gamine was starved for affection.

“So where are we headed, Dio dear?”[/color]

"I thought someplace quiet might be beneficial, I believe there are one or two things we need to discuss." He paused for a moment as a new thought emerged and toyed with it briefly before adding "Although I suppose we could simply go for a stroll, I understand that St. Pauls Chapel has some impressive fornication which draws a fair crowd."

"What do you say Miss Ralls?"

--
(OOC: Click here and search 'fornix')

“Really, Dio,” the redhead gasped, lightly setting a hand on her chest. “In a church?” She batted her eyelids, and leaned her head back against his arm. “So you’ve a studied knowledge of solicitation. A lady could get the wrong impression, Sir.”

She straightened herself up, and changed gears as the train squealed in to the next station. “St. Paul’s. Public setting, private conversation opportunities, and a place I’ve never been.” She gave an assenting nod of her head. “You’ve got yourself a date.”

“In a church?”[/color]

His less than subtle manipulation of English hadn’t evoked quite the response he had been hoping for but had been roughly what he’d expected. For although Ms. Ralls seemed content to play the role of a naive and coquettish gamine she’d still spent a fair amount of time in New York; crude language wouldn’t cause her to bat an eye. It hadn’t hurt to try though.

“Where better?” He asked with an idly amused tone as he treated the soubrette to a raised eyebrow whilst she once again nestled her head against his arm. She really was having entirely too much fun with her little act. Still though, the hessian saw nothing wrong per se with having an appealing young woman hanging off him and he could always get free easily enough if he had to.

“So you’ve a studied knowledge of solicitation. A lady could get the wrong impression, Sir.”[/color]

He didn’t bother correcting her, the misunderstanding was far more amusing and in any case the explanation would have cost him the perfect, albeit clichéd, opening she’d given him. “Ah well, should I ever meet one I shall be certain to conduct myself with more care.”

The conversation reached something of a lull at that point and though the redhead straightened somewhat she made no move to release the elementals arm. For his part Zephyr was quite content to enjoy the momentary lapse his cheap shot had given him and took the time to once again peruse the foreign characters in his book.

Eventually though Maxine managed to rally her thoughts as the train ground to its usual halt and passengers flowed in and out. Surprisingly the redhead seemed quite eager to visit the chapel and the hessian had to pause to suppress the slight smirk which tugged at his lips before he gave his nonchalant reply without lifting his gaze from his reading.

“Indeed? Do you normally include chapels and fornication on a first date?”

“What can I say? I’m an old-fashioned girl. You’ve got to get me down the chapel aisle if you want to see any fornications.”

She leaned over his arm, peering down at the phrasebook that had so captivated his interest. Not that he would be pretending to ignore her, of course. Mister Dio here was clearly above childish gambits. Everything in his manner spoke of sheer refinement, from the way he took young ladies hanging off his arm to be a common place event, to the way he sniped a young lady’s title. There was nothing juvenile about this situation, and let none accuse him.

The train squealed to its way towards another halt. “地铁站是什么?” She read from the English pronunciation below the characters, cheerful in her butchery of the phrase.

What’s our stop?

“What can I say? I’m an old-fashioned girl. You’ve got to get me down the chapel aisle if you want to see any fornications.[/color]

The hessian lips twitched upwards at that and he made no effort to hide his amusement as he shot the redhead a brief sideways glance. Notwithstanding a few stumbles the soubrette was proving just as adept at the verbal parrying as he’d expected and was clearly enjoying herself. Perhaps it was time to try and take the game somewhat further? A lot could be gained from what one did and didn’t say after all.

“This from the woman who surrounds herself with floating phallic instruments?”

The train signaled its next stop with yet another unpleasant screech of metal on metal as brakes were applied and the gamine took advantage of the abrupt shift in motion to essentially lean across him and stare down at his book. The move momentarily blocked the hessians vision of the pages but did treat him to a not unpleasant view of the girls lower back and somewhat low riding jeans which possibly showed slightly more than the redhead intended.

”Shen mei chi wo min de ting zhi ne?”[/color] ¹

Frowning briefly as he tried to assemble some coherent meaning to the soubrettes mangled phrasing he quickly abandoned the effort when he took note of the ingénues tone and instead rolled his eyes as he lifted the book in his hand to lightly swat at her head.

“That was atrocious.” he said simply even as he lowered the book again. “You need to pay attention to accents above each group of syllables. Now…”

What followed was an impromptu and rather bemusing lesson on Chinese which lasted all of ten minutes before the redheads increasingly exaggerated pronunciation finally caused the elemental to abandon his efforts to have the girl embarrass and insult herself in a foreign language. By that time however they’d already left the train and made their way to the chapel just as the hessian placed the phrase book back in his jacket pocket.

---

¹ I appreciate bare thunder toads

“They’re called pens, Dio. What do you use them for?” Sweetly, so sweetly, the redhead inquired. She deliberately reached up a hand to scritch behind Poe’s cap. Without any other orders, the black pen had settled in its usual perch behind her ear, while the rest had ducked down to roost in her purse. It spun its cap at the touch, resulting in a short plastic-on-plastic squeak that could be labeled happy chirping.

Really, that comment was just sick. Not to mention bestiality, in Maxine’s world.

They got off the train at Fulton, to avoid switching lines. In winter she would have hopped the A line in a heartbeat, to spend an extra few blocks in subterranean warmth. On a day like this? She could stand a stroll out under the sun, on the arm of a certain brown-haired young man.

Particularly when he was trying to teach her Chinese, with an adorable degree of diligence. Particularly when he was trying to teacher her Chinese with a British accent. There might be a reason her pronunciation just kept getting worse. That, and he made the cutest faces when she butchered things. Like he was longing for a wall to bash his head against, or a bottle of aspirin to overdose on.

They arrived at the chapel in good order, which he took as an excuse to declare defeat in her lessons, without so many words. The little phrase book simply got tucked into a back pocket, with a certain ‘...and that ordeal is over’ finality.

St. Paul’s Chapel stood before them, on its own little plot of green land amidst the usual sky scrappers. If she peered too closely down Fulton, she might even catch sight of the twin tower’s memorial. Maxine didn’t peer. She led the Brit’s captive arm—and the rest of him, presumably—into the chapel yard. It was a graveyard, really, but gravestones this old always struck her as peaceful: these people were dead, and so was everyone who had ever known them. When there was no one left to morn, there was nothing sad left. Just blocks of stone with dates and inscriptions for tourists to coo over, and the occasional distant relative to proudly point out to friends.

“I think I’ve got a great-great-great uncle in here somewhere,” she said conversationally. Then, with little ado; “So. Why are you letting me follow you?” And more than follow. This was, after all, coming from the redhead still loosely draped over his arm.

Despite being located well within the city’s heart the chapel, as with most religious structures, somehow managed to cultivate an air of quiescence and serenity. The passing traffic somehow seemed more distant and the typically brash New Yorkers become rather reticent. It was almost unnatural and yet Zephyr found himself appreciating the false solitude even as his svelte companion abruptly took the lead.

The hessian generally put little store by religion. While he would acknowledge that faith could cause people to do wonderful and terrible things, the concept of deity’s and destiny simply struck him as nothing more than delusional. Still, he’d long learned to keep such opinions to himself and had little intention of sharing such views given his current setting.

When the redhead led him to the graveyard though and mentioned her deceased relatives the elemental couldn’t help but ponder how fitting the backdrop for their conversation had become.

Whether she knew it or not Ms. Ralls was treading thin ice and not just with the hessian himself. The gamine seemed to have started a hobby of offending those who would have little compunction with killing her. Most notably one Isabel Duskmoor who’d gone on more than rampage over the entire ‘bone bikini’ affair and would gladly see the redhead fill a grave, leading many to wonder how the reporter was still drawing breath almost two months on.

For Zephyr himself though Maxine was currently little more than nuisance; the last thing he wanted was media attention. He needed to distract, or preferably persuade, the ingénue that, for now at least, he was simply an innocuous individual and thus there were better headlines to be had. If she proved overly obstinate however, well… things could become unpleasant. Until then though he was quite comfortable in his current role and saw little reason to disrupt things.

“So. Why are you letting me follow you?”[/color]

Raising an eyebrow the hessian glanced down and gave the girl a measuring look for a few moments before replying. “I suppose,” he said slowly as a slight smirk crossed his features, “that would depend on why you thought I was worth following.”

He didn’t answer at first. That was nice—it meant he didn’t have anything prepared. There was nothing a reporter hated so much as an answer analyzed and polished. Replies given on the spot were so much more informative, even in the way they evaded the question.

>> “I suppose that would depend on why you thought I was worth following.”

Definitely answer enough. Add in the darling smirk, and the post script read, it’s not as if you’re a threat to me at present. Which was fair enough.

She had no intentions of being a threat to him. He was cute, but from a news perspective? He was a shiny little minnow, and one she’d rather keep for herself. She was hunting sailfish for slaughter.

“I,” the redhead said, getting up on tiptoes to breathily whisper in his ear, “want to know who hired you to ruin Lauren Olos reputation.”

She settled back down on her heels, with her own smile, as the tourists on the main path passed them by.

Credit where credit was due, the girl was quite good at dissembling and likely anyone who happened to be watching would see nothing amiss with the young redhead stretching up to whisper in elementals ear, even if said elemental had to shift his arm and lean down slightly for the gesture to actually work. It was classic clichéd scene that the elemental had no issues working with, the words themselves however were another issue entirely.

“I, want to know who hired you to ruin Lauren Olos reputation.”[/color]

Restraining a sigh Zephyr subtly lifted his arm out of the soubrettes grasp and slipped it around her waist as he swiftly mulled over his response. That particular incident with Ms. Olos had been over two years ago and he’d half hoped the redhead would have forgotten, yet she seemed to have her sights set on fishing for a story. There was little cause for concern just yet though; it shouldn’t be too difficult to persuade the gamine to forget about the disgraced actress, but if he couldn’t well, it wasn’t as though she could prove anything otherwise it would have reached the press long ago.

“Hmm, Olos… Olos. The name rings a faint bell, she’s rather old news isn’t she?” Tilting his own head down to the redheads ear the elemental returned the whisper he’ as he trailed an almost indistinct pulse of air down the girl spine. “I sure I can think of better ways to spend our time.”

Maxine shivered. She didn’t try to fight it, or conceal it: let the elemental have his fun. The red head leaned into the curve of his body, resting her head on his shoulder. One hand reached up, and traced little circles through his shirt.

“Cute,” she whispered. “But I want a name.”

She angled her gaze upward, with a smirk. “Business before pleasure, Dio. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard it.”

“Old stories make the biggest splash, when they get a new light shined on them. You know she’s still trying to make it, right? Even with the tabloids tearing her apart every week, her fans shying away... if I break the story that Ms. Olos was innocent all along—set up by some foul person or persons—she’ll be back in the spotlight, even more beloved than ever. And she’ll owe all her gratitude to a humble mutie reporter.” The redhead leaned her head back a little further, and quirked an eyebrow up at the aeromancer. “Wouldn’t that just make you smile, Dio? Seeing that little bigot owing everything to a little freak? Her managers wouldn’t let her badmouth us. She’d have to smile and say thank you for all the cameras, for the rest of her life.”

Not just to the cameras: to Maxine Ralls, in specific. Being such a big fan of her show, she trusted that Dio would know how much of an ego blow that would cause for the starlet.

“Any tips you could provide, of course, would be kept strictly confidential.” Her hand kept up its motion, moving in lazy figure-eights around two rather sensitive points.

"Cute, but want a name. Business before pleasure, Dio. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard it.”[/color]

Hiding a frown Zephyr kept his arm loosely fixed around the redheads side as she toyed with his shirt. She was gravely mistaken if she thought she'd get anything incriminating from him. Discussing clients publicly in his profession was bad for business, even two years on. Ralls would have more luck wringing water from a stone. Still she was clearly trying to tease him, there was no reason he couldn't respond in kind but he'd let her have her say first.

"Old Stories make the biggest splash... Any tips you could provide, of course, would be kept strictly confidential."[/color]

Meeting the soubrettes gaze smirk for smirk the elemental let his hand wander up and down the girls side as she leaned into him, tracing her curves with his fingers as he trailed from her hips to her ribs and back again, using just enough pressure to be noticeable as he sought for any hint of a twitch or shiver.

"Ms. Olos doesn't truly concern me one way or another. I think you might be over estimating her though, she's had two years; if she were going to recover she would have done so by now. Honestly I don't see what she's done to deserve your good grace."

"As for keeping things confidential," He gave a low chuckle, "I'm afraid I've learned that the media can rarely be trusted, though you're free to try and convince me otherwise."

He’d gotten his twitch and/or shiver before; the redhead gave a little sigh for variety, and let her own arm drop. No name, of course: it was never that easy. Except when it was, but then she was dealing with the kind of idiots who only merited five minutes of fame. Granted, that fit her show to a T... but she was really looking to break into the “fifteen minutes” field.

So. He definitely wasn’t denying that he’d been hired, which sounded like a confirmation to her ears. But she’d known that, and that wasn’t a new angle—Ms. Olos and her press people had been working that one since day one. She could always bring forward her “key witness, the woman who placed the 911 phone call,” but without anything else, that wasn’t big enough to be worth the inevitable trouble of people finding out that the caller had been her. So short of actual investigative work into Ms. Olos’ enemies—which more experienced reporters than she had already tried—she didn’t have much new here.

Boo.

Eh, it was fine. She had segments backed up until November, anyway. There was no shortage of stupidity in town, even if Dio here wasn’t jumping on the bandwagon. It was actually refreshing to meet someone who seemed to have a brain. Such first impressions could rarely be trusted, though.

“You’ve learned, huh?” The redhead asked sweetly. “So I’m not your first?”

Journalist, that is.

And he was completely right not to trust her—just not for the reasons he was implying.