New York, home to the city that never sleeps. A multicultural metropolis playing host to all manner of individual's, industries and ideologies. It was a vast urban nexus where anything could, and often did, happen. The city's potential was vast, almost unprecedented, limited only by the bounds of human imagination. It could accommodate the most mundane matters and overly outlandish occurrences without any indication that events were anything but the norm.

Only in New York City would a few scraps of fabric warrant a seven figure soiree atop one of the most exclusives venues in the region.

The clubs official name was Vinicio's Vertex Vault, colloquially however it possessed a number of more succinct soubriquet, with 'The Vault' being the most common moniker and one which the owner did little to dissuade. Located near the westward waterfront the establishment occupied the upper floors of an impressive skyscraper and boasted the dubious honour of finding itself at the highest altitude of any its competitors and as such charged a significant premium for the use of its rooftop lounge.

Tonight that price had been paid by one Paolo Mancini, aka Paolo Martini due to his love of libations. A somewhat willowy individual in his middle ages the man sported shoulder length charcoal hair gathered into a pony tail and the faintest hint of a soul patch on his chin. The Italian had been a rising star in the fashion industry for the last several years ever since it had come to light that his mutation allowed him to meld living foliage with silk, thereby creating opulent garments which cleaned and mended themselves when exposed to sunlight.

There was likely a good deal more to the fashion designers success, but in all honesty, Zephyr couldn't find it in him to care. The realm of fashion had never truly interested the elemental, he knew enough to make himself presentable but the constantly cycling trends which came with each season simply struck him as redundant and inane. It was nothing more than a means of encouraging consumerism and keeping money in circulation and so as far as the hessian was concerned Mancini was just mutant who'd made use of gifts to achieve success.

Still, it was that same success which had permitted the man to purchase the elementals services and so the Briton couldn't truly complain. All in all it had been a rather basic task; nothing more than a case of retuning stolen property. A sketchbook to be specific, one which his client required to finish crafting a number of garments in time for their debut tomorrow evening and the Italian hadn't trusted the normal authorities to deal with the issue in a timely manner.

Exiting the elevator on the 63rd floor Zephyr stepped out onto the Vertex's main bar come lobby and glanced around. Although he knew the clubs reputation he'd never had an occasion to visit himself. The overall theme seemed to be that of a classical Italian villa mixed here and there with metallic fixtures in keeping with that if vault. It was, admittedly, an odd design but it somehow worked on aesthetic level and the elemental decided he approved.

Walking smoothly across the polished mosaic floor the hessians feet made almost no sound over the music which blared from the speakers situated in every corner and the constant murmur of conversation. The entrance to the rooftop had been roped off and was under guard by rather imposing individual in a non nonsense black suit, however an invitation from the elementals client allowed the Briton to pass unhindered.

Mancini's party was, if anything, a surprisingly low key affair. It wasn't somber in any way, the ample amount of libations provided by the serving staff saw to that, but everything appeared to be muted. Those present seemed to be enjoying themselves, however one group was noticeably isolated from the rest and their mien was significantly more subdued. A further inspection of said group found that it contained the elementals client and so Zephyr unobtrusively made his way over.

Several minutes later the hessian had been paid and Mancini's mood had been greatly improved. The Italian had given a brief but enthusiastic address to his guests encouraging everyone to stay and enjoy themselves while he himself abruptly departed. A move which Zephyr eventually intended to imitate, after he'd had a chance to mingle with potential clients and sample what was on offer.

After all, in a city like this you never knew who or what you might find.

Another night, another party. Apparently Riley had a talent for these things. After the first one, a few more bookings had trickled in, after those, even more. Sometimes people got the wrong idea and thought she was from an escort service, but after three stomped feet and a shirt front covered in Ginger Ale, Riley still had a job, so she figured she was doing okay. They’d booked her tonight, hadn’t they? And so far, everyone was behaving themselves. For the most part, people were treating her nice. Real nice. Nicer than she’d ever been treated since getting into the business.

This gig was probably even more high end than the one Riley had ran into Aurum at, and the rules were just as simple. Just wander around, look pretty while talking to people, and get paid while wearing expensive clothes that she had to give back at the end of the night but got to pretend were hers. There’d been a few scary moments right at the beginning when the adapted had heard how exactly this guy made his fabrics. Images of suddenly naked models had flashed through her head and she’d almost bolted. The food looked too good though, and the pay was nothing to scoff at either. Her fears had been unfounded, it turned out. It seemed that as long as the guy didn’t try to make anything they’d be alright and what was starting to become Riley’s little secret again, would stay that way.

So, she’d wandered, and mingled. It was easy to make friends like this, and at a gala for a fashion designer, there were lots of networking opportunities that made Riley want to drool. She knew she’d never land any of the high fashion gigs. That ship had sailed along with her last, inadequate growth spurt. There were still opportunities though, so she smiled and schmoozed her way through a couple of hours, careful to avoid the man of the evening, then wandered off to find a quiet corner to people watch.

The fashion crowd sure was an eccentric bunch, and Riley settled comfortably (well as comfortably as one could settle while wearing four inch heels) into her spot to see.

Networking was vital in any occupation, regardless of whether you were a low paid janitor or high paid executive, a career was all too often based on whom you knew rather than what. It was simply a facet of human nature and one the elemental had come to terms with quite quickly and strived to turn to his advantage.

"Ah, Miss Bowles? A pleasure to- yes, I am an acquaintance of Mr. Mancini, however I was hoping to talk to you about your upcoming article in Rogue. You tend to be rather insightful about such things, I was hoping you could give me your impressions on the guests thus far..."

The key to networking was to leave a favourable impression. A firm handshake and good eye contact was all well and good but discussion was the true decider. Being able to make your audience feel at home by maintaining a dialog they could follow and contribute to was vital. In the past this often required a considerable amount of research on a potential client to discern their interests and achievements. These days however with technology being what it was, everyone was overly eager to share their information and a brief online search could tell you almost anything you wanted to know.

"Mr. Yaeger? Oliver Smith, pleased to meet you. I was just talking with Miss Bowles- yes, she certainly has a, unique, view on things I agree. I'm quite capable of reading between the lines though and I was wondering if you'd considered..."

In a pinch however, media personnel still tended to be a source of reliable, if biased, information.

Still though, fashion fete's such as this were not the hessians typical métier milieu. While a number of those in attendance were certainly affluent enough to make them attractive as potential clients the overall setting provided only enough privacy for Zephyr to make vague allusions about his occupation. Even if some of the more astute individuals caught the underlying meaning of his 'consultant practice' they weren't necessarily in need of his services.

Even if he failed to gain a single client though, the night was far from a complete loss. He'd earned a sizeable sum from only a few hours work, set down a somewhat reputable foundation for himself among a number of the city's more privileged residents whilst enjoying the view provided by a number of agreeable young women showcasing Mancini's more exiguous work.

The most intriguing of these girls however was an appealingly lissome creature with dark hair attired in a slightly more modest dress. She possessed a presence he'd only encountered a handful of times but which had always garnered his interest. The quotidian vernacular for her kind was 'adapted'; individuals capable of suppressing or completely negating a mutants power, but to the elementals mind her kind represented an enigma he'd hence forth been unable to fully examine.

He intended to change that.

That being said though the hessian had little clue how he'd react to her aura, and the middle of the party was hardly the place to cause a scene giving all the effort he'd spent crafting himself a reputable persona. At the same time though it would be difficult to convince her to leave if he couldn't get close enough to engage her in conversation. Instead he chose a middle ground breaking away from the gathered guests and heading towards the railed off edges of the rooftop on the pretense of taking a phone call, before then asking a waiter to pass along an invitation to a certain young woman.

The invitation came from one of the waiters, and Riley’s eyebrow rose a bit dramatically. Someone wanted to talk to her? This meant one of two things: someone thought she was one of those models, or they waxed on the dramatic. She wasn’t going to be impolite right off the bat. That was not how people made connections at places like these. She’d give the guy the ‘waxing on dramatic’ benefit of the doubt and see what he had to say.

The brunette took her time though. She didn’t dawdle long enough to be rude, but Riley had learned quite some time ago that among the powerful, most of the time it was counterproductive to look like you came running at their every beck and call. At least at first, it was far more beneficial to look like you cared what they had to say, but make it clear that you worked only on your own agenda. Sometimes that wasn’t the case, but regardless of who they were, Riley didn’t want to be a slave to anyone.

After she’d finished her glass of ginger ale, the model set the empty champagne flute on a passing waiter’s tray and made her way to the railing that surrounded the building and the man who had sent her the invitation.

He was slim, almost exactly of a height with her and her heels, and he had brown hair. Something about him brushed the back of Riley’s mind with familiarity, but she couldn’t place it with any specificity.

“It really is a nice view.” Riley said as she approached, “You can’t ask for more in the way of inspiration than a city like New York.”

”What can I do for you, Mr….?”

The shapely enigma took her time responding to his invitation. It wasn't completely unexpected, there were other people present after all, and the skyline scenery was quite captivating once one took note of it. It was a sight which never quite got old; there was simply something about the vast lucent array which, when scattered across the otherwise obsidian cityscape, became easily admirable.

With that being said though, when the dark haired gamine began to make her way over the elementals attention swiftly shifted. In truth it was hard not to; it wasn't that the girl was exceptionally pretty, which she was, but rather that she possessed a prominent presence in his spatial perceptions. Specifically, he couldn't sense her. In his minds eye the lissome creature was seemingly at the centre of black orb which shielded her from his ethereal awareness.

Thus when approached him the hessian simply had the impression that an eight foot sphere was bearing down on him from across the rooftop. Such a thing is difficult to miss at the best of times.

“It really is a nice view. You can’t ask for more in the way of inspiration than a city like New York.”[/color]


She was polite, and at least passable with palaver, always a plus in such situations, however her tone was also guarded. Understandable really, she'd been invited to join an utter stranger on a roof during a somewhat eccentric soiree. Admittedly the scene was something of a cliche which the hessian normally have preferred to avoid, but it had been the easiest approach given the situation. He had a slight suspicion about how he'd react to an adapted's presence, he was far from certain however and hadn't been willing to test the effect of her aura directly in the midst of the other guests.

As she drew closer he gestured for her to join him again the railing on his right, taking a slight but noticeable step to left as he did so to avoid the outer edge of her field even as he turned to give her an urbane smile.

”What can I do for you, Mr….?”[/color]

Zephyr made use of a number of monikers, each of which he tried to restrict to a certain group or class of individuals. Dio was the alias he begun using most frequently for social side trips such as this. Potential clients however tended respond somewhat better to the more formal soubriquet 'Mr. Smith' Other mutants however were generally given the elemental appellation of Zephyr, though the hessian had been using it less frequently of late.

In this instance he'd already introduced himself to a number of the guests as Mr. Smith and so that took the usual choice out of his hands. Using different names among the same crowd would only get him uncomfortable attention.

"Smith." He answered easily after only a moments pause. "I'm glad you could join me- though if you could stay right there I'd greatly appreciate it." He offered a small apologetic smile, "I don't mean to be rude, I'm just not certain how I'd react to your... unique, presence."

He waited a moment for his words to sink in, to see if the girl knew what she was and, by extension, what he himself had to be, before continuing. "However I was hoping you'd... indulge me, so that I might find out."

Riley had to admit that her curiosity was piqued by the stranger who had invited her to the railing. As she approached, he indicated that she should join him at the railing, and she obliged, perching a hip against the railing despite the impressive height of the building. Riley had never been scared of heights, and this was just another rail.

He introduced himself as Mr. Smith, and a thin eyebrow arched as Riley tried to decide whether or not he was being sincere. Whose name was actually Smith? According to the New York City phone book...something like a hundred thousand, so Riley decided to take him at his word. For now.

He continued to speak, and even gave his reason for requesting her presence. Well, Riley thought, at least he didn’t think she was a hooker.

Somehow, from all the way across the roof, he’d known exactly what she was. Riley’s previously friendly and curious smile shut down a bit, and she obliged his request that she stay where she was. The last thing she needed was someone taking offense and outing her. She’d just managed to get her career rolling again. She checked herself quickly though. There wasn’t any malice in Mr. Smith’s demeanor, and he seemed genuinely curious about the effect she would have on him. He’d kept his distance, and he’d asked permission.[/color]

Riley studied him for a moment, then smiled slightly and dipped her head in acquiescence. ”By all means.” she said, ”Just...be discreet if the results are less than desirable to you. And my name is Riley.” she said, choosing her first name in the face of his, more formal last.

It was interesting, almost amusing, to watch the brief and subtle play of emotion which swept across the gamines features. The slight hesitation infecting previously confident steps, a charming smile diminishing to a superficial grin and a guarded, almost frightened light flickering into light behind sapphire eyes. All minor tells, nothing anyone would be able to discern at a casual glance, but for someone who was looking and half expecting them, the signs were clear as day; the girl knew full well what she was… and was nervous about it.

Then, just as quickly as it had surfaced the, the soubrette’s anxiety vanished as the charming mask rose back into place. And it was a mask; he’d not been able to tell initially but after the ingénues slight slip it was easier to spot. Truthfully, he wasn’t surprised. Eccentric social gatherings like this rarely rewarded honest behavior, there was always a measure of cozener, he himself was proof of that. The gamine was simply playing the networking game, albeit with a slightly different approach.

A short moment passed, during which the ingénue seemed to study just as he had her. Having only adopted the most basic of affable affectation he idly wondered what she saw. Whatever it was apparently satisfied her to some degree, making her comfortable enough to offer both her assent and a name.

“Riley…” He pronounced the name carefully. It was unusual, far more so than ‘Smith’. It seemed oddly familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. He offered the gamine a gentle nod before continuing. “A pleasant name, it suits you. You needn’t worry about discretion though, I asked you here with that in mind. Still I’ll do my best to be subtle.”

The he entered her aura.

The effect was instantaneous; a mixture of vertigo, fatigue and, oddly, relief arced through him as his mutation simply shut down for the first time in his life. It was beyond disconcerting, the absence of his spatial awareness felt as though he’d been abruptly submerged as his perception reverted to mere human levels. His sense of balance veered sharply and had he not held the foresight to grip the balustrade he likely would have fallen.

As it was though his only visible reaction was to clench the railing tightly and lean his weight against it for the few moments it took for the world to cease spinning and resolve itself.

“That, was unpleasant.”

Mr. Smith promised to be the very picture of discretion and Riley had to smile a genuine little smile. With a name like Smith, how could he be anything else? His curiosity was more interesting than threatening, Riley decided, especially when she looked at it in light of some of the reactions she’d gotten in the past. She would indulge him, gladly, and sate her own curiosity about what was going to happen.

Obviously Mr. Smith was a mutant lucky enough to have been spared a physical mutation, at least at first glance, and Riley assumed that would not change based on his promise of discretion. The possibility for negative results had to exist, or he wouldn’t have been hesitant, but her aura couldn’t be life threatening to him or he wouldn’t have taken the chance. Or would he? The only thing to do was to wait and watch.

Mr. Smith took a step forward.

Riley was watching for it, and his reaction could have been construed as something as simple as a casual lean against the railing. He was using it for support though, and Riley hesitated on the edge of taking a step back to spare him from her strange ability. He wasn’t moving though, so she held her ground and waited to see what was going to happen. Smith spoke, and Riley had to laugh.

“Yet here you are. Would you prefer I moved back?” she asked, just in case he was out of sorts enough to have to stand still.

Riley's amusement at his current discomfort, while an apt example of schadenfreude, was not entirely appreciated. Still, it was at least an honest laugh rather than one of malevolence or condescension which the hessian had been half expecting. The city's residents were not well known for their courteous behaviour towards others after all, yet the girl seemed to be intent on making herself an exception, even offering to step back in order to allow the elemental a chance to regain his senses.

"Thank you, but no." He replied in a wry cadence as he habitually raised a hand to the bridge of his nose to ward off what was certain to be a lancing migraine. "I'm not certain the reverse would be any more pleasant. I'm... adjusting, it's simply-"

He paused, his azure gaze turning back to the cityscape as a thoughtful frown briefly overtook his features before it was swept aside by a mild expression of astoundment as he blinked and then cautiously lifted his hand to his forehead.

The pain, the incessant dolorific pounding in his skull, had vanished. It hadn't been suppressed or alleviated to the bearable extent his medication generally afforded him. No, this was different, he couldn't detect even the slightest ache which usually accompanied his thoughts. It was gone, completely and utterly gone.

He hadn't expected this in the least.

He couldn't quite find the words to describe it. The closest he could come was 'light headed' but even that was misleading. He was still capable of thinking quite clearly, it was simply that his thoughts were no longer accompanied by the previously ever present shades of pain.

Giving his head a short shake to dismiss the tangential train of thought Zephyr lowered his hand back to the railing. He'd wanted to test the negation effect of an adapted yes, but that didn't require him to act like a dazed schoolboy. This wasn't a private setting; there were still potential clients in attendance and so he needed to maintain the affectation he'd adopted for the evening.


Turning his head back to Riley the elemental was again the image of a discrete gentleman as he offered the girl a small smile. "I apologize, there was somewhat more to this than I expected. Could I trouble you to spend a little more time with me while I gain my bearings?"

Riley watched as her new friend composed himself, and nodded her head when he said that she could stay where she was. It seemed like conversation would be unwelcome at this point, so Riley settled for studying the skyline. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said that the view was lovely. If the designer had anything, it was an eye for scenery, and Riley was doing anything but inconveniencing herself by taking a moment to admire it while her companion regained his equilibrium and tried to finish his thought.

When she turned back, he was holding the bridge of his nose like he had some sort of headache and Riley again averted her gaze, as not to draw attention or appear to stare. At length, he turned back to her and spoke, and Riley gave him her attention.

Apparently her abilities had affected him more than he had expected, but he had recovered to a point that the thread of conversation could be picked up once more. He asked if she minded spending a bit more time with him, and the dark haired woman shook her head.

”Not at all Mr. Smith.” she said with a slightly lopsided smile, ”In fact, this is by far the most interesting conversation I’ve had all night. There’s no way I’d leave.”

Riley wasn’t going to pry, she hated it when people did that and she figured that if he wanted to tell her anything about what was going on, Mr. Smith would expound on his own. Instead, she waited, patient and interested for where the conversation would progress.

Still leaning against the balustrade Zephyr kept his azure eyes remained fixed on his present companion. His overall posture was casual yet amiable as his mind drifted back and forth between the soubrettes words and the still novel sensation of solace the girls aura granted him. It really was quite pleasant to form thoughts without a perpetual migraine. He hadn't noticed until now just to what degree the constant ache had plagued his mind.

”Not at all Mr. Smith. In fact, this is by far the most interesting conversation I’ve had all night. There’s no way I’d leave.”[/color]

That was an invitation to talk about himself if ever Zephyr had heard one, however the elemental hadn't amassed a small yet comfortable fortune by sharing his life story with every pretty face that passed by. Still, that was no excuse to be unsociable, he could afford to indulge the gamine to an extent. If anything keeping her entertained would only benefit him.

"Indeed? I suppose I should count myself fortunate then, though I find it hard to believe. A gathering of the city's odd and eccentric and you find me the most fascinating? Surely your work can't be that dull?"

It wasn't a complete shot in the dark. The ingénues dress was clearly one of Mancini's creations and given that the man's work didn't officially début until tomorrow it meant that the girl was most likely a model invited to showcase her unique attire to a more select group. She certainly had the looks for it, yet it rarely hurt to double check.

"You are a model aren't you? I hope you don't mind my noticing but you do rather look the part in that dress."

Compliments also rarely hurt.

A dark eyebrow rose when Mr. Smith commented that her work couldn’t possibly be dull enough that she was entertained by his mere presence. He ascertained, from the dress apparently, that she was a model and Riley confirmed his suspicion with a slight nod and a smile. For the first time, the model wondered who exactly he was. Sure, she knew his last name, but “Mr. Smith” could be anyone and she was curious who he was. He knew the designer well enough to pick out one of his designs in the crowd, and you simply had to be somebody to get invited to a party like this.

Oh, he’d asked a question. A couple in fact, some directly and some by inference.

”Yes, I’m a model, and knowing that, you shouldn’t be surprised that interesting conversation is like a drink of water on a hot day.”

”Most of the people here only want to talk about themselves, and how wonderful they are.” She grinned in his direction.

”You seem the complete opposite. Mr. Smith.” she said with emphasis on the name, ”You’ve told me almost nothing about yourself, and you’re quick enough to realize with someone as vain as myself, flattery gets you everywhere.”

Well, it seemed he'd managed to arouse the brunettes interest, that was both good, and bad. The former because it meant she was less likely to wander off without her curiosity being sated, and the latter because the gamine would now be looking, and likely pressing, for at least a few details about himself. A subject which could be somewhat nettlesome to one in the hessians rather dissolute profession.

Still, he'd handled it before, it was simply a matter of deciding which approach he wanted to take. He couldn't afford to be too callous, yet he still needed to hold her attention.

”Most of the people here only want to talk about themselves, and how wonderful they are.”[/color]

He returned her smile. "If that's the case I'd be quite interested to hear what you have to say. I'd wager you're far more interesting than anyone here."

Her rather pointed reply caused the elemental to chuckle briefly before pushing off the rail and resting his back against it. He then glanced at Riley and paused only a moment before replying with a faint trace of mirth. "What can I say? I'm a good listener and I try to tell the truth when I can."

It was easier, and in any case remembering lies was far too much effort.

"In any case, I'm fairly sure it doesn't count as flattery when it's true. ...out of curiosity though, precisely how far could such truthful statements get me?"

Riley snorted at the compliment. There wasn’t any derision in the act, but it was simply funny to her that anyone could think that she was the most interesting person in a room full of the rich and glamorous…yet Mr. Smith proclaimed himself a great teller of the truth…when he could be.

”I guess that’s preferable to the alternative.” Riley said with a grin.

And as to just how far the truth would get him. A dark eyebrow rose as she mulled over her options and tried to work out exactly how she should answer. She didn’t want to take too long, lest he think she was slow, but she had to be careful with her answer. One didn’t want to make promises one had no intentions of keeping.

”Much further than anything else. That’s for sure.”

That worked well enough.

Keeping Riley in the center of his vision Zephyr had to restrain the urge to sigh as he watched the girls reactions. The initial amusement which danced across the soubrettes features easily put her earlier polite mask to shame, sadly though it lasted all too briefly as she'd quickly raised her guard again when he'd tried to gauge his luck. A warning perhaps, but her response hadn't been anything which could be construed as a rejection. If anything it was reflection of his own question, a positive comment which hinted but promised nothing. Still though, subtlety was likely the safest course of action.

"Indeed? That almost sounds like a challenge, which I suppose is rather fitting for a gracious Godiva like yourself. Still, it would be rude of me to do all the talking and I'm certain you're far more than a pretty face, tell me a little about yourself. I can't imagine someone with your talents doesn't have a story worth telling."

His tone was warm yet urbane as he spoke, affecting a comfortable casual air which was a mark of any good listener. If his British brogue also happened to become slightly more noticeable well, he doubted the gamine would complain.